Five Days On A Good Stagecoach by Traynor Andrew

Author:Traynor, Andrew
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

My dearest Kendell,

My love, you already bring me peace. You bring me comfort. You bring me happiness. Am I happy? No I am not; but all the brightness piecing the umbra of my life is emitted by you. Why should we not become the beacon which guides all other lovers? Our love has endured so much already. And still it continues to grow; still it continues to glow. I do not blame you one iota for ‘salting the aubergine,’ as you put it. (I am still struggling to discern the origin of that specific phrase.) Your act was that of a man who is desperately in love. It makes me feel immensely special and desired; how can I possibly resent any gesture of that nature, even if it did leave me rather flustered as well? My reaction was all my fault and I love you even more because of the passion which you displayed.

You may have noticed from the seal that this letter comes to you from Dydesbury. Yes, I enacted another of my rather abrupt escapes. Such is my nature. I brood and procrastinate and turn matters one way and then another in my mind. Then something seems to break inside me and I have to act immediately. This is probably why I always pack so hastily and tend to leave objects behind; my favorite hairbrush and one of my best pairs of boots are currently still languishing in ‘my’ bedroom in Daylen’s house. In this instance I was only waiting for your last letter to arrive, for I was determined to receive it and not be forced to have it forwarded. The day after it came, I was on the road again.

Arriving home, if Dydesbury really is my home, was interesting. For one, the state of my living quarters. Even though I retained the lease of my apartment, my landlord had clearly sub-let it out. Had I not forewarned him of my arrival, I would probably have found my rivals still in situ. As it was, they appeared to have been evicted rather hastily and arbitrary traces of their existence remain. A new and rather fetching black and red diamond blanket on my bed. A bag containing some rusting workman’s tools. Rather a lot of empty but unwashed beer flagons. And, most strikingly, a large ginger and cream cat. He – or she – seems extremely friendly. Indeed, he approached me miaowing noisily, apparently accepting me immediately, his only protest being that he required feeding. I asked my landlord for the address of my ghost residents so that I can return their pet. Of course, my landlord – a rather exasperating rogue who seems to draw his traits directly from the comical interludes of morality plays – denies that anyone at all lived in my flat during my absence. Therefore I appear to have acquired a cat, temporarily at least. I shall not name him until I am certain that his owners do not intend reclaiming him. For the same reason I shall try to avoid falling in love with him just yet.

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