http://alibi.com/blog/41701/article.html
Imaginary Postcard

Pensacola, Florida

Oh lordy, I finally snuck away for a few sweet moments of quiet. I do not exaggerate when I say my sister has given birth to a litter of hyenas. They run wild literally SCREECHING at us, at each other, at the sky, at the water, at their cereal. They get their sticky fingers stuck in my hair. All of my clothes are ruined from red and blue smears of candy spit and I could KILL. I've been hiding in some dark corner of the beach house trying to read my book, or keeping one eye out so the hellions don't dump a cold bucket of seawater on my back while I'm laying out hoping to goddamn relax. My dad is lucky—he can escape to the old bum bar down the beach. (My mom said he met his first wife there. NASTY.) I hope summer school hasn’t murdered you yet because I think I actually am dying to see you ... If your mom is reading this, tell her I say hi.