An envelope previously containing a bank statement

Driving between one place and hte next I dreamed up a fierce and funny monologue about being a shy girl, because shy girls don't get enough air play because we never ask for it and the non-shy are unwilling to give up theirs. It involved the word 'fuck' a lot, a lot of angry voices, fists in the air, that kind of thing. I never wrote it down because between one place and another other things came into my head and, besides, the shy girl didn't want to speak. One place lead to another, and another, and at far-too-early I was sitting in a girl's bedroom and we were both gazing off at our feet and I wanted to pull her into me, sleepy and warm, and sit there the rest of the night but the shy girl wouldn't let me.