The note was an apology, to my mother, for whatever I did way back when. Somehow I managed to rise before she did, crawling my five year-old self out of the small twin bed with a mission at hand. The note was already composed, now it just needed a delivery spot. Placing it on her nightstand was out of the question - she's a light sleeper, and their bedroom was up a creaky stairwell with a door that craved oil on its hinges. So was the kitchen table - as a family, that's where we placed birthday cards for the lucky member to spot. Too confusing to put an apology letter there. I decided the best place was in her car, where she could spot it before she ventured to work in the morning. Most steering wheels on cars from the 1980's, by the way, are a perfect resting place for such correspondence. The horn often sat back a bit from the spoke, or whatever the technical term is for it, making for an ideal spot to balance something if need be. I strapped on some quick winter gear...