letter to Elizabeth

Note from 14 February 2024: I left this on the odd little table or whatever-it-is in the living room of the apartment my landlady evicted me from. I wasn’t going to be a problem as I was vacating, but I wasn’t going to leave without a last word, either.

I ended up neither texting nor emailing her because in the end, it didn’t matter. I figured by the time I was going to get anything important in the mail, I’d have a post office box to forward it to. Turned out I moved back in with my father several days later, so I had a real address. Same deal.


I wanted to clean up more for you, but you took three hours off my prep time. I was afraid that if I left to get a storage locker you might renege again and I’d come back to my property damaged or worse. Can’t have that.

So I’m actually out early but you’ll need to do a little cleaning. U-Haul closes at 7. I need the locker more than I need to make you happy.

For the record: I am neither a criminal nor a drug addict. I can’t otherwise explain your attitude beyond the rent situation. I do understand the rent situation. But things you have said make me wonder if you are afraid of me. So let’s clear that up now. You’re wrong about me. The end.

Yes I left the laser printer on purpose. I am tired of moving that thing. It works but may need maintenance. Or sell it or donate it. I don’t care.

Whatever housewares I left are yours. What would I do with them in a car?

Your relative downstairs [in the downstairs apartment] smokes weed.

I will text you once with my P.O. box and then block you. Will also email you, ditto. Whatever comes after that, that’s that.

Thank you for giving me a safe place for half a year. Not really giving, I paid for it, but you know what I mean.