bub (bubmaley)

I read it six or seven times. Then I put it down. Walked to the other end of the room and came back. When I picked up the letter again, I wasn't sure if the words would still be there. Or, if they were there, if they would still be the same words. I read it six or seven more times, and then still not sure of anything, dismissed it as a prank. A moment later, I was filled with doubts, and the morning after that I began to doubt those doubts. To think one thought meant thinking the opposite thought, and no sooner did that second thought kill the first thought than a third rose up to destroy the second.