Letters From Emily
While procrastinating instead of writing my essays, I came up with a possible new novel idea, and got to writing that instead of my university work. I’ve entitled it Letters From Emily, and as the title suggests, it will be a series of letters that our (heroine?) Emily writes to her husband in the final two months of her life. To introduce the story I have written a short prologue-esk piece which will lead into Emily’s letters. The writing style is a lot different to anything I have tried myself, but I’ve read enough books written in the style to have an idea – we hope – of what I’m doing. I hope it works, and obviously feedback is always welcome. So without further adieu, here it is:
Letters From Emily – Chapter One
Morning – March 22nd
It is with sincere regret that I must pass on news of such a delicate and sullen nature that I know all too well how your poor heart will suffer, however as your only remaining family I find it is but my duty to inform you of the tragedy which has befallen during your absence. I am afraid to tell you, dear brother, that your wife Emily passed away last night. I shall spare you the details of her passing unless you request them of me, but know that she spoke only of you in her final moments.
It pains me deeply to imagine how great a hurt this news has brought upon you. Yet I must content myself with parting unto you my greatest, and most sincere, condolences. Brother, I entreat you to keep strong your mind, and think only of your best memories of your beloved Emily until next we meet. I shall be returning to Devon by the first train tomorrow morning.
Keep strong, my dear William, and know that I am always
Your faithful and ever affectionate brother,
Evening – March 22rd
O, what horrid news your letter brought to me this morning. It seems my whole being is crumbling; but my brother you know me better than anyone and so I must thank you for your kind words. You know only too well how my heart aches so at times of sorrow. This very sheet is sodden with the tears I have been shedding over the loss of my sweet wife. And yet I must not forget your advice; I shall cease my weeping and compose myself, at least until your return.
To think, I had only eight days to pass until my return to Leeds, and to my Emily. But alas, my business is not yet done and I must make haste to finish so I can come home. I thank you, Charles, for your coming to Devon tomorrow; I am afraid I shouldn’t last much longer than a day without some familiar company.
O but my Emily! How she spent her last breaths speaking of me and yet I could not be by her side! I promised her I would be with her until our last. I understand your wanting to protect me from any unnecessary pain, but please dear brother tell me, did she suffer much? Was it quick or did unforgiving Death take His time in taking away my sweet angel? O, Charles, forgive me for putting such questions to you, yet save the answers until tomorrow when you arrive to me.
Bless the Heavens for such strong men as you, my Charles. I only hope I can find half the strength that you posses to aid me through these bitter times. Until tomorrow then, I remain
Your thankful and indebted brother,