Dear Mr. Trump,

One of these days, I won’t be able to write to you at the White House anymore. There will come a time when, if I want to get your attention, I will need to write to you care of the United States Penitentiary in Allenwood.

Although you claim that you hardly know Paul Manafort – who is now cooperating with Mueller investigation – he was your campaign chairman. He participated in the Trump Tower meeting with your son and son-in-law, the meeting you surely knew about in advance. He will tell all.

I have learned that, among the various educational opportunities available at Allenwood, you can take a correspondence course. This must be a course where they teach you to respond to letters. I am hopeful that, when the day comes, you will finally write back to me. I’ve now written you more than 100 letters and have yet to receive a response.

I would send copies of my letters to Allenwood – copies that would await your arrival, to be given to you in a large box when they assign you your orange jump suit – but I don’t have your register number yet. Mail can be sent to prisoners at Allenwood only if the addressee has a register number.

While serving your term in Allenwood (perhaps it will only be for two or three years), you can also work in an upholstery factory, where, I presume, you can manufacture a new rug for your head.

Or, maybe it won’t be Allenwood you’re sent to. Wherever you end up, my letters will follow.

The beginning of your trip to Allenwood starts when Democrats replace the Republicans in Congress who have sheltered you.

Very truly yours,

Bruce J. Berger