The Jew Doctor

Letters

Dear Elise,

My love, I can say from within the depths of my heart that whatever I have gone through, what ever I have endured it doesn't compare to the pain of being away from you. In my nightmares you guided me to the light of day. In my hours of morbid depression when the sky turned grey and I was left standing wet and cold without comfort you were there to provide the only warmth I could ask for and the only shelter my heart could need.

And I thank you for each comfort you provided me throughout the years, but if ever I needed someone it would be now, I cannot travel to Lutz. Please do write to me back.

43 Avenplaza Bauerstraße
München 85540

Your Sincerely,
F.E

Dear Elise,

I cannot tell you what is so important for me to tell you only by seeing you and speaking to you, you must trust me and you must contact me as soon as you have the chance. I cannot express the urgency of this issue.

However loud the bird sings within the cage, it's attempts to be heard are futile. If the bird can be heard, it's probably flying around somewhere.

43 Avenplaza Bauerstraße
München 85540

Your sincerely,
F.E

Dear Elise,

I haven't heard from you for some time, I have sent 2 letters, they may have not arrived. But if they have arrived, and you no longer know me or wish not to know me, please send a letter telling me so. For three months I have been on edge and I have been excited the night before as I thought your letter might arrive the next day. I can bare to loose hope, write to me back.

43 Avenplaza Bauerstraße
München 85540

Yours sincerely,
F.E.

That was the last letter I sent. Although I know she won't write back, although I've known this for nearly a year, flickers of hope still remain and I sometimes find myself with dreams of finding a letter which informs me why she couldn't write or how the letters never arrived or how she was being forced, for my well being, not to write back. No letters of that kind arrived.

I love looking out
through my window; there is this swing right in front of it. It's a tree swing made from an old tire and rope, no body uses it, but it manages to rock backwards and forwards in an almost perpetual motion. It's normally windy, a good wind however, a refreshing breeze, although I am uncertain of how refreshing it is as I never go out, I imagine it would be loverly. It's a great oak - the swing - it's suspended on a magnificent oak that I imagine to be no younger than 300 years, I've always loved trees and this just might be the one I love the most. It's strange, with nature you grow less fond of the sight you repeatedly see - the variety of nature is what's most enjoyed, but the more I saw this tree the more I liked it and each day I'd see the same thing but feel something else, each day I'd learn something else and each day I'd fall in love with another tiny spec that could easily be missed at a glance. The tree was Elise. The grass spread throughout the garden, right beneath my high placed window which was dirty and had paint on it and was difficult to look through as it was suspended five feet off the ground and you would have to almost tiptoe if you wanted to see fully outside, to the far end of the fenced rectangular garden. The grass was bright, almost blue, but that was due to the fact it rained quite a lot as we were fast approaching winter. I loved the smell. Especially when it rained, the smell of rain I liked more than the wet grass. The smell of rain is difficult to describe, but I imagine most people unconsciously love it. I don't like the smell of snow, I might unconsciously but I don't consciously, the smell is not my least favourite thing about the snow; the cold is. Staying in a basement the size of a large cupboard without a fireplace isn't very pleasant. The last winter I was lucky to have whiskey, without it I couldn't close my eyes. And once again I think I need to stack up on whiskey because I know, winter's coming.