Can somebody help me? I am lost in my closet. I turned left at the broken VCR, went under the wedding dress, around the “last box” from when I moved into the house, turned right after I passed Albuquerque, and proceeded north just over the hill of old sweaters that may or may not have holes in them. In front of me I can see what looks like Detroit, some cowboy boots, two boxes of books from law school (mine? joe’s? jonathan’s? unclear.), two tons of Easter grass, four generations of cell phone chargers, notes to a speech I gave in college, my high school report cards, my mom’s firesafe box (which I still can’t get unlocked) and six pairs of jeans all in sizes I wish were mine, but aren’t. I need someone to get on a plane to Houston and find me. I received a text message on Sunday indicating Michelle came after me on Saturday, but hasn’t been heard from since.