Because of some odd inspiration a few days ago, I found myself perusing my

old sent mail folders in pine.  The very last mail I sent in July of this

year was to Gillian - a mail that never ended up making it to her, as I'd

used a nonexistant address.  



this is the mail; it was quite a shock to realize I'd sent this way back

then; before, as I remember, anything had ever happened between us . . .

Subject: you are my sunshine

my only sunshine
you make me happy
where skies are grey
you are my sunshine,
my only sunshine
blah blah blah
I don't remember the words
I am a mster typer.
I am keewler tha you
even when I'm drunk


-Nat

p.s.

I love you