A little bit of Paradis

Paradis | October 19, 2009

Letter writing is an art form. The art of letter writing is slowly but surely being eroded. It is my mission to keep it alive.

A Victorian letter I wrote a long time ago ~Paradis

My dearest sister Abby
It seems so long since I last spoke to you of home. Two weeks, four days, five hours and thirty something minutes I believe. There, now you will be faintly amused that I remember with such detail, and your eyes will sparkle, and tho’ you will not laugh heartily, the corners of your mouth will turn upwards, and you will hold your hand to your chest, just as you always did when Father told us tales of his escapades in Billingsgate Fish market. You know, the one thing about living in London that I always loved, were the bells of St Pauls in the early morning, especially when the mists of Autumn time cloaked the city with it’s eerieness. I think Taylor must have been a genius, considering he cast Great Paul without any tuning, it is almost a perfect octave. How did he do it? The sound is almost a perfect pitch.

I admit to having some moments of sadness, when I think of those lost times, and I am never happier than when I plan with ardour, another visit, to see you and the family. I regret I cannot find time to visit more often, but that is the way of things. Since qualifying and taking the post with Watson and Watson, and being made a partner, albeit a junior, I felt fully obligated to accompany them on their move to Scotland. It would have made no sense to drop out and have the worry of searching for another post, especially as they suited my needs well, and them, being so pleased with my enrolement.

In reply to your question, yes, I will be delighted to return for your birthday party. I would not miss it for the world. I have never missed one yet in all your twenty one years, and, God grant me able, I never shall, dear sister. When our dear brother died of that dreaded disease three years hence, it made me think long and hard about family values, not that I neglected them before, but you know how it is. When one goes about their business in the world, sometimes, those that are dear to us, are pushed into the shadows while we seek our goals. Robert will always be affectionately with us, though it saddens me that I will never shake his hand or hear his voice again. Anyway, let us leave that sad subject unturned, it is a part of the past and should stay that way.

On a brighter note, do you remember I told you of Mr. Watson’s plan to expand the office? Well, I am overjoyed at the prospect of getting my own office. Mr.Watson senior informed me personally, that I will soon be seated in my own office, with a view of the river no less. Isn’t that something? I know I am the junior partner, but that does not qualify me for a seperate office, but here I am, getting just that! Oh, it will be small, tiny even, in comparison with Mr.Watson’s office, but it will be my own. I will finally be able to hang that map you sent me.

Only a little more than two weeks, and I shall set eyes on you again, and you can guide me through the city, and show me the changes, for I know things change fast in London. Oh, to hear the sound of St.Pauls again. Yes yes, of course there are bells in Scotland. It isn’t full of silence you know, but they sound so – foreign, so unlike the bells I grew up with. The light is fading fast, and I want to catch the post so that this letter reaches you with haste, so without further ado, my dear Abby, I will close this letter, and wait with anticipation for your reply.
From your loving brother, Simon.

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Paradis | October 19, 2009

A letter  I wrote, involving the aftermath of some big apocalyptic disaster ~Paradis

Tony
I am writing this letter in the hope that one day I will be able to put it into your hand along with the others that I have written to you in the six weeks and five days since you went off with Blake to search for others ‘out there’. It was tough to let you go, but you can be very strong willed sometimes, a trait I guess you inherited from our father.

It seems like only yesterday when you left Alandale looking for…well, anything.  I am still not sure it was the right thing for you to do, and I hope Blake will take care not to let you get into trouble, we still don’t know what lies beyond the confines of our hunting area, or outside of the trade route between Alandale and Eastbridge.

The stories the older ones told us as children, and continue to tell, fascinate me. It must have been terrifiying, and yet…I wanted to have been there, to witness the whole thing. The floods changing the landscape, the incredible storms raging for days at a time, cities torn apart by fearsome quakes. How must it have been with just a single moon in the sky? It’s incredible to think about isn’t it? It seems so un-natural. But I guess the older ones must find it very odd looking to the sky and seeing two moons shining down on them. Motor cars, now that’s something I wish I had seen. Can you imagine transportation that moves many times faster than you can run?

I don’t even know a life that was any different from this. This is how it always was for us, but for them…I wish some of those communication devices we heard about still worked. I would give anything for a working telephone right now. It would be very good to know you were safe, and to hear your voice after so long. Of all the things I wish for, I wish to hear your voice.

You know, I hear the wind howling outside, and that windchime you made is making one heck of a din. Properly complaining it is. It is a wonder it didn’t fly right off the nail you secured it to. I guess we are heading for another storm, that’s the third one this week. I don’t know what’s happening, but I am sure the storms have been more violent since you left. Maybe it’s my imagination, or maybe I just need you here for reassurance. Thoughts of being the last survivors spook me sometimes, so forgive my rambling.

Did you know we found and killed twelve rabbits on Thursday? That’s a record for one day. They are becoming more and more daring recently. They have been coming closer to the perimeter fence, and one day last week, I can’t remember the exact day, but some of them almost got Dillard. They gored his leg, but don’t worry, he is ok. It will scar, but he will be fine. Two or three at a time, we can handle, but when so many gather, you need your wits about you.

It’s strange to think that before the disaster, rabbits were childrens pets and quite small enough for them to hold and pet. They are not the sort of animal I would want to try holding, or getting close to, unless they are dead of course.

But I am rambling again, anyway, we had a most wonderful supper that day. I made a handsome rabbit stew with wheat dumplings, and Mrs Robbins made some of that famous bread of hers. One day, I will get her to teach me how to make that. She isn’t getting any younger you know, and while I don’t want anything to happen to her, it would be prudent to know how to cook more than rabbit stew, and besides, I like cooking.

Once again,there has been talk in the community of moving on somewhere new. I am not sure what to think on the matter. I remember arriving at this farmland five years ago and thinking, why did we come here? It was in a worse state than our previous home, but I can see now, it was a wise move. Moving into a farm, with plenty of land to grow our food has meant we have never gone hungry, and the rabbits are in abundance here. Being on higher ground has meant more fresh water for us too.

Hey, did you know some of the guys over in Eastbridge are building a boat? Well, not exactly building it, but they found a couple of battered old rowing boats, and they are converting them into a ship with sails, to navigate the sea eastwards. If they manage it, it will be a miracle, with all the storms raging, but I wish them luck in their endeavour.

I guess that’s all there is to tell this time. Hoping you will soon return and give me all your good news and stories of your travels.
With love
Lucy

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