A Letter To Angela.

By Ian Francis

“Next door is behaving funny again; Dad reckons it’s dementia or Alzheimer’s or one of them. I said she was out in the garden at four this morning crying, squatting amongst the Petunias (she didn’t have any knickers on either). But I never told your Dad that!”

Letter on a table with wax seal Envato Elements Licence held by Author

Dear Angela,

My darling, I’ve wanted to reach out for the longest time, but what with my Sciatica still throbbing and that lump ‘you know where’!

It’s been nearly six months, and there’s still no change; it leaks occasionally, and Dad says he’s not touching it anymore as it gives him the willies. I know what he means, Angela, it’s all rubbery and makes noises! Oh, it’s horrible, and sometimes it’s as hard as a rock in the mornings. Doctor McClaren says we might be thinking about a day trip to Biopsyville soon, to be on the safe side.