Dear Mrs Scrote, your long silence had me preoccupated for a while, so I was relieved to hear from a mutual friend that the rumbles of your death were greatly exaggerated. It seems that you are not dead, just sleeping a lot more than you used to.
That is a condition I understand well, having been married for years to the late Mr Trellis, who always appeared to be asleep even when he was awake. I used to pop into his room from time to time, and the only way I could be certain he hadn't shuffled of his mortal coil was the fact that the tea in his cup had gone down by an inch or so.
Forgive me if I don't write more at this time, but, like you, I have very little lead left in my pencil.
Yours respectably
BTrellis, Mrs, widow, retd, still open to offers.
That is a condition I understand well, having been married for years to the late Mr Trellis, who always appeared to be asleep even when he was awake. I used to pop into his room from time to time, and the only way I could be certain he hadn't shuffled of his mortal coil was the fact that the tea in his cup had gone down by an inch or so.
Forgive me if I don't write more at this time, but, like you, I have very little lead left in my pencil.
Yours respectably
BTrellis, Mrs, widow, retd, still open to offers.
