Journey's End . . .

Dear God,

I'm standing on the parapet of the railway bridge just outside Georgetown. Yes, it does look pretty. But, that's not why I'm writing. I want you to know that if it doesn't stop snowing, I'm going to jump. I can't stand it any longer: Getting up at the crack of dawn every morning this week. Shoveling a foot of thick, wet, snow. Then, an hour later, more snow, more shoveling. Just as I finish, the f*cking snowplough comes past and dumps even more wet slush onto the drive. So I start again. Tell me, what's the point of life? I'm an artist, not a snow removal operative. I wasn't built to dig snow every day. So, snow or jump? It's your decision. But please let me know very quickly. It's cold up here, the next train's due in 10 minutes and I need a cup of coffee . . .

Yours in desperation, Agan