|12.7 x 7.6 cm|
I was in love with a girl named Franny. I look back at that time and appreciate every minute. Sometimes it reminds me that as youth wanes, so too does the uncalm wonder at life. At least a bit. I recall feeling anxious and nervous and I smile. I don't know what to say. I was in love.
Franny was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis a couple years after college. The only way dignity is associated with that fucking disease is dependent on who it afflicts; in Franny's case, the dignity with which she responded was startling. She accosted her affliction head on and with humor. QUICKIE was the name she gave her wheelchair, threw a party in its 'honor'. This is the invite she mailed out.
The last time I saw Francesca, she couldn't speak. But I could, and so I did, and at least she could still laugh. And she did.