Another Letter "Home"
A letter, painstakingly written in an obscure pirate code, folded into the shape of a tiny sailing ship, and set loose on the outgoing tide:
Dear Mum,
I'm sorry for what I've said in some of my past letters. Also sorry it's been so long since I wrote. I'm finding myself quite a lot less angry with you these days. Seems you had your reasons for keeping certain things from me. Still, should've known me better than that. I pick things apart. Slowly sometimes, but I get there in the end. I should say something about wondering what it was you saw in that man, but I know you well enough. There's those that don't believe it's true, but I'm fair certain That Woman believes it completely.
I've committed myself to something, Mum. Discordia and her shadowpath-poking friend took me off to an Island of Beautiful People and Rum. Questions were asked by folk that weren't actually there, and I went all sparkly-like. Yes, Discordia, Mum. We're being friendly enough towards each other again, but no, I've not returned to the Apple's service. Mayhaps from where you are now you can tell if what I'm doing will help, maybe keep an eye out? The fretting is worth it. I feel a part of Minos again, and it's been ages, seems, since I last felt that. I hope you'll be proud of me.
Been learning a few new tricks. An experiment in sword-making has finally paid off - and quite well, but as with most experiments, it raised some new questions. The storms just keep surprising me with what they can do. Which is the point of a storm, it seems. I've been trying to arrange for some experimental animals for another idea, but they seem terribly costly.
There's a feller out here wants us who build to work together to spread our knowledge. Already been doing that with a friend. Don't know I can say our first meeting was terribly productive. Might be best not to have so much in the way of intoxicating beverages around for those in the future.
I'm happy and my husband is well, not that you'd ask. It'll still be a fair time before you'll see any grandchilder splashing in the waves, though. Someday.
As always, I hope the winds and tides are kind enough to take this letter to you, since they took you from us. Rest well, Mum.
Love,
Molly
Dear Mum,
I'm sorry for what I've said in some of my past letters. Also sorry it's been so long since I wrote. I'm finding myself quite a lot less angry with you these days. Seems you had your reasons for keeping certain things from me. Still, should've known me better than that. I pick things apart. Slowly sometimes, but I get there in the end. I should say something about wondering what it was you saw in that man, but I know you well enough. There's those that don't believe it's true, but I'm fair certain That Woman believes it completely.
I've committed myself to something, Mum. Discordia and her shadowpath-poking friend took me off to an Island of Beautiful People and Rum. Questions were asked by folk that weren't actually there, and I went all sparkly-like. Yes, Discordia, Mum. We're being friendly enough towards each other again, but no, I've not returned to the Apple's service. Mayhaps from where you are now you can tell if what I'm doing will help, maybe keep an eye out? The fretting is worth it. I feel a part of Minos again, and it's been ages, seems, since I last felt that. I hope you'll be proud of me.
Been learning a few new tricks. An experiment in sword-making has finally paid off - and quite well, but as with most experiments, it raised some new questions. The storms just keep surprising me with what they can do. Which is the point of a storm, it seems. I've been trying to arrange for some experimental animals for another idea, but they seem terribly costly.
There's a feller out here wants us who build to work together to spread our knowledge. Already been doing that with a friend. Don't know I can say our first meeting was terribly productive. Might be best not to have so much in the way of intoxicating beverages around for those in the future.
I'm happy and my husband is well, not that you'd ask. It'll still be a fair time before you'll see any grandchilder splashing in the waves, though. Someday.
As always, I hope the winds and tides are kind enough to take this letter to you, since they took you from us. Rest well, Mum.
Love,
Molly