the guest
(the Guest cleaned her house with determination. She had alot of cobwebs to clean. She furiously dusted the tiny bottles in the kitchen, cleaning each one independently, moping the surface below, and putting it back in its correct place. Love, lust, loyalty, self-preservation, self- control, all stood stoically by the side of each other. She coughed reflexively at the dust that flew out into her lungs. She would need to see a doctor soon.))
My dear PeePeeDoc,
It might come as a surprise to you that I still write daily, to this address. It gives me a small slice of you that exists in my heart, served up on a neat plate, where I can cherish and dip into it. At other times, i refuse to open the box, that Pandora's box which throws me into fits of apoplexy. I am working with a Doctor to solve my problems of the allergies to the dust that comes from cleaning. It probably pays to have experienced this before, because this time, I could quickly alert the authorities and begin Treatment. After yesterday's consult, I have come to realise the problem lies way beyond the dust. The root cause is I can't accept the house that I live in, and the lies that we project to the world. I have begun proceedings to sort that out. You will be proud of me, my dearest man. To take onus of one's life is to give meaning to our existence.
I do wonder often how you are doing tucked away in far off Kashmir? Is it very cold? Are you home sick? Are you able to carry out the work God has chosen for you?
I pray constantly for your soul and your peace. Maybe one day these letters will reach you, and you might read them and smile.
Yours eternally,
Madame D
((The Guest sealed the letter with a blob of red wax. She fixed her seal (a treble cleff similar to the tattoo she wears) and tucked it into the web of a Siberian Crane. She knows they fly to the Indian subcontinent, not far from where PeePeeDoc is parked. Maybe a gust of wind might take an errant stork a little off-course, into the lap of the recipient.))