A Letter from New Hampshire

Dearest Martha — We are seven in an Escalade, bound for a lighthouse some 45 minutes distant. Three of us are under the age of 20 and equipped with electronic gaming devices; two of our party are elders, one of whom is near to deafness and one of whom is tendentious and sensitive to noise. All are talking at cross purposes, though none to my apprehension is listening. One of the youths is presently humming a theme he says is of “jeopardy,” and though the tune be familiar and light I do feel a sense of creeping peril. Should you not hear of me again, know that I have seized the steering and arranged for us to depart this world, rather than suffer longer.