Owl to Marcus Belby
Date: 27 June
Characters Involved: Marcus Belby, Theodore Nott
Marcus,
It's odd; I am unsure how to begin this letter. I've gone through several options, and it all seems a little frivolous. And I am unsure how many years have past since we last spoke.
I do not even know if you are still living at Glenhayes, the address I will send this letter to when finished.
Having said that, I shan't occupy your attention for too long. I am uncertain if you have knowledge of this, and I doubt it, but for the last several months or so, I have been spending my time and efforts abroad. It gave me enough long minutes to consider my life and the social contacts it holds, as if such were so. I have returned to our most exciting island quite recently. The conclusion that life in our generations is dreary enough as it is, I find it can do me no harm to reach out to those I thought of most frequently during my travels.
You were among them.
Allow me to share a memory with you, and by chance you might recall it yourself; I was five, and so you must have been around six or seven. Father went on one of his weekly visits to your estate, bringing me along. As ever, seeing as these visits were one of my few, if not only, social events. We were in the East wing; I remember, for my own rooms were located in the East wing as well, back at the Nott estate.
In any case. You were seated at a table, looking mightily concentrated for such a young boy. The observer in me was intrigued, walked closer, and discovered you drawing. I was impressed. You were far better than me, and my senior in only a year. I expressed this opinion to you, and I believe you were pleased, though it was hard to tell at the time (little has changed since then, I suspect). About a week later, I saw an owl seated on the window sill of my bedroom. It had brought a drawing.
A drawing of Mother. And you had made it for me.
I still have it. I came across it today, packed away in one of the many boxes I brought to the hotel I am currently staying in. Perhaps this is why I felt the sudden urge to contact you.
And now I have occupied your attention for too long a time, even when I said I would not. Contact me if you wish it. The choice, of course, is yours.
Theodore Nott
Characters Involved: Marcus Belby, Theodore Nott
Marcus,
It's odd; I am unsure how to begin this letter. I've gone through several options, and it all seems a little frivolous. And I am unsure how many years have past since we last spoke.
I do not even know if you are still living at Glenhayes, the address I will send this letter to when finished.
Having said that, I shan't occupy your attention for too long. I am uncertain if you have knowledge of this, and I doubt it, but for the last several months or so, I have been spending my time and efforts abroad. It gave me enough long minutes to consider my life and the social contacts it holds, as if such were so. I have returned to our most exciting island quite recently. The conclusion that life in our generations is dreary enough as it is, I find it can do me no harm to reach out to those I thought of most frequently during my travels.
You were among them.
Allow me to share a memory with you, and by chance you might recall it yourself; I was five, and so you must have been around six or seven. Father went on one of his weekly visits to your estate, bringing me along. As ever, seeing as these visits were one of my few, if not only, social events. We were in the East wing; I remember, for my own rooms were located in the East wing as well, back at the Nott estate.
In any case. You were seated at a table, looking mightily concentrated for such a young boy. The observer in me was intrigued, walked closer, and discovered you drawing. I was impressed. You were far better than me, and my senior in only a year. I expressed this opinion to you, and I believe you were pleased, though it was hard to tell at the time (little has changed since then, I suspect). About a week later, I saw an owl seated on the window sill of my bedroom. It had brought a drawing.
A drawing of Mother. And you had made it for me.
I still have it. I came across it today, packed away in one of the many boxes I brought to the hotel I am currently staying in. Perhaps this is why I felt the sudden urge to contact you.
And now I have occupied your attention for too long a time, even when I said I would not. Contact me if you wish it. The choice, of course, is yours.
Theodore Nott