4/19/1800
My Trusted Friend Etienne,
Greetings is a word that has slipped my mind to write to you in a long while, so therefore, I will start this letter with a small greeting. How have you been doing, aside from the events that have been happening with me? Have you been remaining in good health, making smart choices? I miss being able to have idle conversations such as those. I reminisce over the days where we met to chat about nothing, the days where we gazed at the blue skies and pure, feathery clouds, and the breeze rustled our hair, a cool distraction from the sun for a while. The sun and the winds fail to distract or calm me nowadays. This indulgence in memories is not the point of any of these returned favors. What you want, My Dearest Friend, is any sort of answer, and I do understand wholeheartedly why this is your focus as of now. In your case, I would be worried and confused, as well. I would want answers. If you were in my shoes, though, you would understand my reluctance on letting you see these answers. I wish for your safety, and if you hid what I have done, and what I have said, that would make you in as much danger as I. Therefore, I will not tell you because you simply cannot know. I pray that you don't pry for any answer. I am afraid of the possibilities of what could happen. I am being selfish again, aren't I?
Matthews
YOU ARE READING
The Letters
Historical FictionConstant Matthews, a rich man in the 19th century, decides to contact his dearest friend, Etienne Jay, who immigrated from France to America, to speak of normal matters.
