Dear Kurl,
I’m writing to formally request a do-over of something I botched yesterday in the art closet. In the heat of the moment you said, “Ask me for anything, Jo; the answer is yes.” I was light-headed, laughing, but itchy with sweat, so I asked you to scratch the back of my thigh for me. I was just like the old woman in the fairy tale who squanders her three wishes by sticking a sausage to the end of her husband’s nose and then wishing it off again.
Yours,
Jo