The Italy Letters by Vi Khi Nao

The Italy Letters by Vi Khi Nao

Author:Vi Khi Nao [Nao, Vi Khi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Melville House
Published: 2024-08-13T00:00:00+00:00


I haven’t written you since my arrival back to Las Vegas. I think about you intermittently like the way rain thinks about the earth. An intermittent desire. Pulling back a little, I haven’t been engaging with you very much. I feared that with your new job, you would be exhausted or consumed by orientation and you wouldn’t have time. But, you had time today. We spoke for a long time. And, it had filled me with excitement. An excitement I didn’t want to end or depart from. Yesterday, I was trafficking Instagram and read something that made me think immediately of you. Poetryandwords had quoted it:

The best love is unexpected. You don’t just pick someone and cross your fingers it’ll work out. You meet them by fate and it’s an instant connection, and the chemistry share is way above your head. You just talk and notice the way their lips curve when they smile or the colour of their eyes and all at once you know you’re either lucky or screwed.

I didn’t know why this made me think of you. But I did know. I did know that my love for you had arrived unexpectedly. And since I couldn’t for most of our conversations see the colour of your eyes or your smile or if your lips curved or moved in a straight line, perhaps I could see arc and undulation in the lips of your words or the way you phrase a thought or the way you end a sentence. Maybe this was the colour of your eyes: the way you used sentences. I have grown more and more fond of you as time passes between us. I haven’t yet decided what to do with this fondness. Leaving it alone seemed such an ache. Yet, to prolong it—the future might never arrive.

Let me revisit today with you. I was moved to share with you that I had won the Ronald Sukenick Innovative Fiction Contest. You replied that you couldn’t wait to read it. To assure you that I had been waiting patiently for your letter I told you that I would go to the mailbox today to see if your letter had arrived. And, to excite me even further, you said that you had another one cooking for me. I’m having a hard time writing you letters lately because this manuscript feels like a gigantic letter to me. I’m not even sure if the mail carrier could even take it. I asked you how you were. You imparted that you were good and that you were sitting in your bedroom being quiet because your husband was massaging a lady in the living room. You asked how I was. I told you that I was happy. That makes the two of us, you said, and that you tried to copy my Facebook picture, the one I took at the LA Convention Center, when you were walking to your job on your first day of work. It was a quiet picture. Nothing spectacular, but I liked it.



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