Letters

Continued from Letters. This is in reply to Simon.

                     

                                   Sandra Achen
                  Somewhere in Liverpool
                                  20th/11/2004

Dear arrogant, ignorant little brother
I am fine, thank you for asking about my health….in passing. And I did not whine and whine, I just mentioned to you that I have a cold, not the flu, but a cold. Owing to the below zero temperatures that plague us daily. I got sick. You would not last a day here, you big cry baby. I promise.
How is our mother? Your frustration at her having played all those love songs is probably what led you to being a pseudo cynic. Pseudo-cynic is exactly what you are, little brother. You are a closet romantic, wanting to show the world that you do not believe in the claptrap that seems to ensnare everybody but actually seeking the comforts of said claptrap in the privacy of your room otherwise you would not read those novels I keep sending. I also seem to remember a particular incident  way back, of finding my Jackie Collins under your mattress.. Care to explain that….
It brings me utmost pleasure to tell you this; you, my dear, are just like everybody else.
See that twintuition that you so repeatedly mocked back then is coming back to bite you in the ass. Your exact words, I believe, always are, ‘that is just superstitious crap that is fed to the masses to make them believe that twins have more of a bond than normal siblings’
HA!
Much as I love you, I will not be denied the chance to say this, I TOLD YOU SO!
Now I will spare you the boring details of my life as an English student (read, English, not literature, English). I won’t even complain about the fact that my darn toes are freezing…seriously how do these people survive, year in, year out?…. Nope I won’t talk about that…. Because this news is just too juicy! (Do not roll your eyes!). Beautiful eyes? Lightening struck? An angel, no, a thousand angels? Ho! You are a goner! And I’m so glad you know that you are a bumbling idiots. I can just picture you falling over yourself and into those boxes.
I’m happy though. For the longest time I imagined that you would be living/leeching off me and my husband when we are old and grey, no wife, no kids. Seriously, there was no hope for you….well until that letter. I’m so relieved…
I hope you get to know her name so that I can tease you mercilessly and of course be happy for you.
                                        Yours Truly
                                              Sandra.
P.S. Could it be lust at first sight?
P.S.S Please share the chocolates with the kids. They say you are being mean. Also enclosed is another Judith McNaught. I dare you not to read it.