Anthony “Fergie” Ferguson is a loner, a porn addict, a video game aficiondado, and a stalker. In other words, Fergie is pretty much an average all-American young man. Writer Chris DeBrie’s “Please Forward My Mail” is a novel in serial form, written scene by scene.
Fergie was sitting in the car with the windows down, watching her, his cheeks burning in night’s chill. Watching one woman while thinking about another one. Lyrics through his mind: When I go to hell/please forward my mail.
He sat in his car, in the rear parking lot of her apartment complex. Hidden under the drooping branches of a large tree, he could see her clearly through her kitchen sliding doors. She and Brad never closed the big vertical blinds.
Fergie had seen a lot through their windows. There were five people in there tonight. They were watching a football game on this giant projection television.
The tree was shedding wet leaves on his hood and windows.
One look at Daciana as teenagers, and he’d felt something he had never imagined.
That first look, and he knew two things with surety: I am going to fall in love with that girl, and she is going to break my heart. The certainty was like something outside of himself. He believed it fully.