I have the most horrible news to share: My Father has found me. He sent me a letter saying he was coming to America to get me. That the clan was dreadfully mourning my disappearance. Lies, of course, but the worst threat in the letter was of pertinence to my sister, Myrtille, who did not witness the events that led to my fleeing France. She still felt our bond, though, and has sensed something is amiss in our clan. Father is going to kill her if she discovers the truth, but only if she confronts him. Myrtille is too intelligent to accuse Father of outright murder and treason, of mudering the Clan-Mother, MY mother. I hate him, him and his all of his pond-scum bloodline . . . .
I have done it! I spoke to the peasant boy! He has the kindest voice . . . . I even showed him my new dress. He seemed shy and surprised to talk to me. I wonder about his origonal shock at seeing my gown. Do other women in this country not bother to look their finest? How can anyone, let alone a lady, walk outside without proper attire? What I would give to go back to France . . . . but it is too dangerous, and I would miss Nathaniel. I simply continue to fall further and further into the abyss known as "America".
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Hey America isn't all that bad! I'm glad you spoke to the peasant boy, they can be rather nice. Sadly, the past few generations or so most men and women don't bother to look their best, even on interviews and dates! But there are many who do take pride in themselves.
I work for a cable company. I have had people come in to pay their bill, in jammies and pink fuzzy slippers. Including morning breath. ewwwww
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