I worried how a friend was doing who'd recently gotten out of jail so I sent him a note asking him how he was (this was, of course, in the days before the Internet and crazed millions buzzing each other all the time by Facebook and Twitter and email, this was the heyday of the postal service) and a few days later I received his reply scribbled on the back of a smeared postcard:
"I'm doing fine, thanks be to God and Prozac!"
I couldn't help but wonder if he had it right all along.
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