My Dearest Isabella,
I have received all your letters. I am so sorry I have only now collected the courage to deliver a reply. When I read that we were to have a son, I was filled with a mysterious feeling I couldn’t identify – as if fear and excitement were battling for my heart’s attention. That night, at my acrobatic performance, I could hardly concentrate and my partner, The Great Mystique, nearly fell to her death on my account.
That night I lay in my cot wondering what we should do – get married? Tell the parents? Bring both of you here and raise our son as a wolf-boy?
It was then that I chose to seek the advice of our Psychic Advisor and Bearded Lady, Beatrice The Bearded Wonder. We spoke of you and our son, and the many options that lay before us in our lives. We spoke for hours. It was after she gave to me a cup of mysterious wine that I fell into an enchantment with her, and the woman beneath the beard, that I could not ignore.
I have fallen so deeply in love with her, with her facial cascade of hair and the 10 rings of gemstone which decorate her plump fingers, that I am afraid I can never return to you. I shall send funds for the upbringing of our son, and a candle for in case the electricity goes out. I hope my honesty has been some redemption for my terrible actions.
Terribly, terribly yours,
Flying Frederick
PS: You should consider growing a beard. You would look most handsome.
This is great.
ReplyDelete