Dear MOMI,
The fault of the thoughtless --une.
So heed my advice
With the traffic and ice,
I'll finish my route around noon.
Anyway, why you haven't heard from me is actually your own doing, many
years ago. You see, I've been working on your daughter's genealogy, which
should seem easy enough given that I've already written yours. One would think that
all I had to do was write her father's, tack it to yours, and call it another
chapter in Irish domination.
All would have worked that way except for finding that the man on Sarah Stegall's
birth certificate is NOT her father. This sent me down a very dark, twisted
path of trying to sort the long trail of broken hearts, shattered dreams, and
nondisclosure contracts.
Wow!
The most depressing of the lot is musing over all your secret admirers who
never got close enough to proclaim their love and all the
countless spurred advances that avalanched
authors into tragic life choices to avoid facing your disinterest in them.
I might add here, Momi, that your rejection of my marriage proposal last year did give
me some insight as to how they feel.
Anyway that long twisted trail turned out to be false. Sarah's conception was completely accidental; her father was a man you've never met.
This information came in a IVA envelope marked way more top secret then usual.
That started my ruthless search of public pools, toilets, and places of miracles ...anywhere where such a thing might be possible. Since it's impossible to find the informant, unthinkable to disbelieve his/her information, and so unEd Calkinsish to abandon the search in favor of less time consuming and more practical matters, I had to find a clue as to how such a thing could happen.
I could have saved myself a lot of time if I had looked for answers were answers are revealed. Yes, the truth was buried in a shallow grave within the original and unedited text of Bryony.
This is gonna be the cliffhanger of the day.
Denise, I have a Santa Claus gig to run to, but I'm having fun imagining you mentally rifling through your own book to find the lover that loved you and never bothered to even say, "Hi."
Ruthlessly yours,
Ed Calkins, Steward of Tara
have
Ruthlessly
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