Excuse me, miss? You probably don't remember me. I haven't been here in
twenty years. I was that little long-haired girl with the shaggy bearded dad
and my mom had just died.
You were just beginning to turn green. You were getting rusty, but they
called it a fashion statement and threw up a few fireworks and threw back a
few beers for the occasion.
I remember you, the way my grandmas and grandpas remembered you, the first
woman to smile at them here, not like the ones that smiled and misspelled
their names the way I still misspell them.
I just stopped by 'cause you're French, and we're not supposed to like
France anymore. I'm afraid they're going to send you back. Excuse me, Miss
Liberty, I just wanted to say goodbye.
