because my life is more interesting than yours, and I think you know it

when the mask falls off, it sure makes a thud…
February 5, 2010, 3:51 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

“To convince you, I’ll read Jean’s letters before I say more.  They were written to an accomplice and were purchased by Sydney.  There was a compact between the two women, that each should keep the other informed of all adventures, plots and plans, and share whatever good fortune fell to the lot of either.  Thus Jean wrote freely, as you shall judge.  The letters concern us alone.  The first was written a few days after she came.

“Dear Hortense:

“Another failure.  Sydney was more wily than I thought.  All was going well, when one day my old fault beset me, I took too much wine, and let slip the secrets of my past.  My new hosts now understand that I was once … a mime.  Oh, for shame! As soon as I had drunkenly slurred the word, they were disgusted and appauled.  Edward actually did a spit take! His brandy sprayed Mrs. Coventry in the face and in a fainting fit, she leaned too close to the fire and badly scorched her face.  The effect of this restored her to her senses almost instantly and she flew into a screaming tizzy.  It seemed as though there would be no way to make the awful wretch cease her screaming, until Gerald applied (with full force, I might add) the palm of his hand to her face.  This resulted in my obtaining a bloody lip, as I had to bite it to keep myself from laughing.  Mrs. Coventry can be so trying sometimes that I really do think someone ought to bring her to a field where she may meet her very (in my opinion) timely demise.  Edward did his best to aide me and my injured lip and I thanked him. What a useless lump of flesh. Now, Gerald on the other hand, there’s a man I’d like to take backstage and have my way with. Mmmmhm.  Actually, I did have my way with him.  Now, I know it was wrong, and we tried to resist the temptation with every fiber of our hot, longing, writhing bodies… But it was too much for us and we checked into a local inn. What a waste of 5 minutes. It’s sad, Horty, because I know I can never get that 5 minutes back.  Oh well.  At least I am still so advantaged as to have the old uncle wrapped around my little finger.  We shall marry next month. Do come to the reception!

Adieu, more soon.

Ps: This is a likeness that Edward has done of me. I don’t find it at all flattering, but the rest of the family think it very fitting. Your thoughts?


1 Comment so far
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Excellent likeness! Alcott could have said as much.

Comment by drcampbell6676

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