We are close this morning. I can feel your warm wounderful hand in
mine this morning. We are one. There is the holy breath--such a
great pull of thoughts and work to California. It seems as if all
the Comrads were calling me there. Then I hafto think of the one
thing--_Patience_. When you have mastered Patience, you are free.
All well here. My sores are getting better fast. I have wanted to
work lots lately, since I was in bed, but I could not. I lost so
many ideas in bed. Beds are a curse. I love you, Comrad. We need to
be together.