A Drowned Flamingo, and other such tales.

17th March 2009

Darling girl;

I was intending to reply to that message as a matter of urgency, and had ready composed the following response ready to send it; I feel you are in need of comfort and berate the fact I cannot offer it in person. Yesterday, in parallel, I happened to be suffering from rather a severe case of brain damage. Although not in the worst of states Saturday night, judged by the fact that it did not end in tears, after a successive run of late nights I was unable to gather the energy to leave my bed to voyage to the internet cafe where I would have been able to write in peace...

But, sweet thing, I am here now to offer you the support you need. From previous conversations I am aware of the intensity of your feelings towards this boy, and from this I know that butterflies are indeed present therein. However, though my habitual advice is in favour of the pursuit of our winged friends, when it comes to past loves, this must be taken with a pinch of salt. Though butterflies are there to be followed, they can lead to hurt, and when we aware that hurt has occured from such a lover anteriorly then it always pays to be wary. However, the question you must put to yourself, and as I can see you already have; is how to know if his advances are made in seriousness? I simply have no answer to this. I can see that if I were him I would be utterly enamoured with your beautiful self, but it needs to be said in soberness for you to believe it fully. Is there any opportunity to meet with him in the light of day?? In the mean time, do keep me updated on the happening with the literary population of Manchester, I am waiting on Spanish tenterhooks for the discovery of your husband. Fill me in on the occurences with other boys at the same time, s'il te plait...

As for my romantic dramas; I am happy to say I am rather enamoured at this present moment, and have spent two rather rampant drunken evenings, and one more sober, delightful evening with he whom we shall now refer to as 'the prince': There may well be butterflies in Santiago town...


We spent the day at the beach today, and I was witness to the funniest incident this side of the Poruguese border. Whilst playing on the rocks, which were breaker to rather a few freak waves, Jon ventured out a little further to a tall rock which he presumed would be safe from the icy droplets scattered by the impact. On finding, however that this was not the case, and not wanting a drenching, as though the temperature was in the twenties the water was still icelandic, he attempted to return to our safer post. This not being possible, he floudered helplessly on one leg, doing a rather hilarious impression of an instable flamingo. The hilarity increased after the flamingo bore the brunt of the largest freak wave yet, and was engulfed. He nearly suffocated from shock; I nearly suffocated from guffaws. And they say laughter is internal jogging so that burnt off the kebab buffet for the day (genii, these spaniards...)

I am rather proud of my developing tan, and display my radiant watch mark at all possible occasions. I miss you, light of my life, and hope that your dilemma is panning out to your happiness, do keep me on the informed side of life.

Besos and huge love,
Hannah xxx