(I completely forgot it was Thursday, not Friday, so this is a day early, but why not give him a letter now?)

Dear David Dickins,(Dickie)

Your body lie broken in a million pieces in the dry heat exactly one year ago. You tempted death, and decided to let go. You forgot to breathe in the end.

As the sun set, the tears began to downpour, and your energy soaked the ground. These tears were to give you the rain you had always wanted to feel.

Your beautiful soul, if souls are to be something of exisistence, was caught in a world of desires and of sorrow. You did not belong here, and so you were taken.

At least you had the chance to taste life, to know good and evil even if they are only benign concepts. You experienced love, and lust, and connection. You knew what life could give you, and you held it in your arms like a loving child.

You were pure, but intelligent. Your mind open to anything that was presented to you, and perhaps you challenged the world to give you more. In return you offered music, and anyone who listened knew you were the modern Mozart of the guitar.

And so I give you this, only words, memories, and tears. These emotions by instinct, but how I love them so. We are odd creatures, but I'm thankful we have the memory to remember you.

Love,

Brandi

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