"O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?...
...What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet... "
Darling Rose,
We've completely run out of coffee herr, due to the blockades and shortages. They've been feeding us this horrible tasting tea, even though I suspect it to only dried and boiled grass. It tastes like that, too. Meals have become poorer, too. Breakfast is this Godawful tea and a piece of bread, for lunch theres usually a stew of some sort, again, who knows what they manage to put in it. And, of course, not dinner. As if we'd have the resources or the time for that.
How's your body? I suppose the child-coming is nearing. I apologise for not being able to be there for you at these important times for us. I hope you can forgive me. I carry the photograph you sent me for Christmas with me, on my breast. If I have the strength, which I usually find for you, I take it out and kiss it before falling asleep. Your beauty always astounds me, as if it's the first time I've seen you again. It's one of the only things I can truly feel since Kelly died. This admiration for the thought of you. To all else, I've grown numb.
When we first moved to London town, I used to believe, to be certain that that place is the rowdiest on Earth. Younger Percy should've gone to war, to prove himself wrong! But again, it is not of bother anymore. I can comprehend the loudness of my surroundings, but I just don't find a problem in that fact.
I feel parts of my self's identity fading. Or is that thought delusional? It's tough here. I try to tell myself: "You're defending the Crown and the honour of your country Percy" but I see so many men die each day, their every sacrifice seems so meaningless.
Please, just tell me, what it's like, out there.
Yours,
Percy.
YOU ARE READING
Til Roses Do Us Part || ✔
Historical Fiction1914 The Great War had just begun and two British newlyweds exchange letters as the conflict escalates on the Western front; one of them on land, the other in the trenches. They share tenderness, compassion and comfort. [an epistolary novel]
