Post Titled: non-fiction, a correspondence since yesterday: of course.

"To Mr. White:

hey, where are you these days? hung out with Jesus, he's fine."

His reply:
"To The Art Rat:

I'm in the wilds of Mexico, wondering with a pack of dogs (the only true companions I've ever known). We roam at night and sleep during the day. We eat only cactus berries and drink only the blood of the guilty. This is indeed the life.

The Desert Wolf"