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-ooo-
Dedicated to those apart; to those torn and far, yet joined in heart.
-ooo-
—
24 November
Dearest Anna,
As promised, I write to you now that I have finished arranging my quarters. The room I was given is small, cramped - and rodent full, which I chased away, of course, like I used to do with the barn’s vermin. I’m not complaining, though; it is a quiet place, which I coveted the most.
Cheryl wasn’t kidding: it will take me a while to get used to this weather. I can hear the gales howl outside. Night falls abruptly here, and there’s mist in the damp streets outside. Before you worry, I’m fine and warm, as long as the stove remains on. If all else should fail, I still have the fur coat your mother gifted me. Please thank her once more, and give everyone my regards.
I miss you already. I missed you the moment I couldn’t see your lovely, fluttering hair no more at the station. Longing’s shadow looms large in this room; it clutches and tightens my chest, and then, suddenly and without regard, the feeling’s so ferocious I have to close my eyes and let it sink, let it rush through me.
As I sit here, I can hear the house’s breath, in the faint creak and whine of old wood. It’s a dull, lulling sound. So before sleep claims it’s due, I wanted to keep my promise. I hope and trust this letter will reach you soon. Dearest, please write back without delay, and I vow not to falter under this sharp longing, and to endure till your words reach me.
There’s much I still want to tell you, so I will write again - once tomorrow’s ordeals have been sorted out.
Please, take care of yourself. Don’t overexert under the sun too much; the crops and the garden can survive a day or two without your gentle care. You’re always in my thoughts.
Yours forever,
Elsa