Frunk Forth

PRELUDE

Dear Moeselle,

This letter precedes the actual content, which I have sent to you. It is a personal narration of a man you do not know but should have. For that regretfully, I wholly express my apology to have been less the man a father should be. To have priced my fancies extensively above you and not for a moment ponder the extremities that I had been too negligent of what the future may hold, or what good you may become. Yet now all that to what? For presently I am resolved to my greatest misery, perhaps as a chastisement for my wrong doings and as I can say, I feel it is beyond me now to claim the title 'good-man' for myself, but surely, only good men express regrets for their wrongdoings. So I say, forgive me Lovelyn, forgive your old man.
Considerably, this is a personal letter of what is left of Earthling in me before all that may later remain would be a white bearded cadaver of a soul carted to the great beyond. But as I can completely express, would certainly inform you that this, exclusively was quilled on my deathbed supposing that the angel may soon resolve to his scythe, and take this life that all along was lent to me to make of it the best that I may. And here I be seated in this moment staring still at this pamphlet in varying context of wandering timelines, of all that I had fashioned and done in the last eighty years of my thumping human heart. Given that you have asked that I be dearly accurate in the portrayal of my past endeavours, for so I have in good faith written you a piece in both sweet and morbid details of my life as a man in a twisted world. A gesture that has melted this old fool's heart, of how forgiving you have grown to yet request a written narrative of your old fellow.

Unfortunately, as an old man that I have certainly humped to be, my memories fail me and not all I could recall with impeccable specifics but still enough to capture in sensational wordings most of what you may deem essential. Except that these events did not appear in accordance of how they ensued, but rather a proceeding of how I recall them and when I do, which I titled for you as: 'The Personal Narrations and Trials of Frunk Forth the Evering'. Therefore, pay attention closely so you may be familiar with the timeline of the story as it goes back and forth in scattered yet symmetrical narrative. It is all you may need of your old man, his lineage and lifetime, written in a manner that it may seem interesting to read.
I wish I could hold you for one moment and stare through the window of your soul at the calming naivety in your lovely eyes, and at the woman you have grown to be, but as God may have it, that time is past now. And when you wrote to me, claiming to be my long abandoned daughter, it jilted back life into me at least with the hope that I would not leave without a mark. Thank you for warming this old man's cold heart, and dearly I am sorry for the wrongs I have done against you as a father, that puts me entirely in a depressed state as an old fool who had thrown away diamond for pieces of cheap gems. I was only human and truthfully to the corners of my intent did not mean to cast you off from my sight, but I was like a man bewitched beyond limit. I never imagined that I would say this but thank you for surviving without me. And as history may have it, you are certifiably the blood of my blood, and your last name may be as mine, exclusively Moeselle Lovelyn Forth. Therefore, I beg of you one favour dear daughter, take my body when I am gone and bury as it suits you, for that will forever put a smile on my depressed soul.

However, the narrative, includes you and your mother, so that you may undeniably be acquainted with the truth of the unabridged ordeal as they happened and when they did. Some you may find extremely unpleasant, of things I did which I feel regretful about, but of my telling to you, perhaps you may have a few to learn and teach your children. And afterward, make your prayers be that your old man be admitted to the glorious presence of the Almighty.

Your father,
Frunk Forth
Whimp of Everingham.

December 25th 1481.