In all honesty, Jules, at this stage I'm having some difficulties processing everything contained within Valerie's emails. I sense interference in the signal. The picture has become pixelated and punctured by static. It's as if the electricity powering her email account contains an intoxicant. An intoxicant that enters through the eyes, and shocks the nerves in such a way that a uremic plume is emitted from my pores. A sour cloud forced through my glands, flushed by hot shame. If I don't calm down, it may be impossible to construct some coherent narrative about what actually happened.
Forrest Muelrath, The Valeries
















