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Letter to a Friend

Letter to a Friend

"Nothing is, but what is not" - Shakespeare, Macbeth. "Whatever... just sayin'..." - Dirty Martini


Dear Alan,

It's been a while since I wrote to you. Did you know there's a story competition in your name?

I had an idea for it, started to write something. It was clever, funny, titled Jankowski's Lost'n'Found. The story got lost, but it goes something like this:

Jankowski and Al were old friends, co-owners of a cab they took turns driving. They had a flat rate, 4.20, due to the the meter was busted at that amount. Turned out ok, it caught them plenty of business plus a lot of things forgotten in the cab: a Gibson Les Paul guitar, a beaten up Exakta 66, a stuffed toy penguin, a sack of potatoes and quite a few items you don't want to know about.

The cab they housed in Jankowski's garage, the lost articles, same. Some items found their owners, like the stuffed penguin – no kid should lose a stuffed penguin - but most of it just found shelf space in the garage.

Jankowski had a side line writing, and eventually dropped the driving gig. Him and Al still shared the cab business, them both being hacks, one behind the wheel, the other behind a typewriter – which was also, incidentally, left in the cab. They nailed a sign to the garage door – Jankowski's Lost'n'Found, and life went on, as it does.

Cabbies can be talkative, and our Al was no exception. Many a ride would hear about Jankowski's Lost'n'Found, how it came to be, and an inventory of the items in safe keeping as of that moment.

Now you might be wondering where this story is going. Remember, I told you it got lost, which happened when I had to take a taxi in a strange city, to a conference I didn't want to attend. And sure enough, you guessed it, when I exited the taxi at the conference center, my story was gone.

So you're wondering: Was my fare exactly 4.20? Had I seen who the cabbie was, name and photo? Did I try to track the cab down?

Or did I end up at Jankowski's Lost'n'Found, looking for my lost story, and finding instead a cohort of writers and their stories, all there due to a cab with a busted meter, a gabby cabby, and a pair of hacks, Al and Jankowski?

I'll let you decide, old friend.

In the meantime, it's been good talking to you again. We miss you here, but hey, whatever…




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