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Hortencia

October 2010

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Oct. 8th, 2010

Hortencia

Our Fallen Child

My Dear Husband,

It's with a heavy heart I must tell you of the death of our child, Micah.  A few nights ago, he and his brother, Cecil, were playing along the edges of the oil field, trying to find left over human parts to bring home so I could render the fat for new bars of soap (we haven't been able to bathe in a month and the soiled linens from my most recent birth could use a good soaking).  Apparently they discovered a zobot shell and after poking it and taunting it, nothing happened.  Micah, being an idiot child, decided to place it upon his person and have Cecil pull him along on a wheeled board while crying for, "Blood and oil!  Blood and oil!".  The foolish children forgot that the village was having their monthly gun check so every able bodied male was armed and ready when he went by.  He was shot 138 times by over 20 men.  They laughed upon discovering their mistake and ran to get me to give me the news.  I was saddened to see his bloodied corpse, but do not fret husband, I crushed his skull myself, for it should be a reminder to all that there is no time for fun in these desperate times.  His body will be on display until next week so others can learn from the poor decision of a 3 year-old.  I'll hold onto his skull so you may spit upon it yourself.

I look forward to replacing him when you return.

Your ever-loving wife,

Hortencia

May. 3rd, 2010

Hortencia

I do apologize

My loving husband,

I also apologize for the late correspondence.  Many a mailman has fallen prey to the mechanical menace whilst attempting to deliver our letters.  Perhaps so many would not parish if the poor men were not weighted down with Good Luck Bricks sent by the village's children.  They hope smiles will be brought to their father's and brother's faces as they use the bricks to crush the skulls of their enemy.  Our children have sent over a dozen each day to show their love for you so do let us know if they have reached you and have been part of a good de-braining.

Other news, the number of people staying at the inn has gone down.  I believe the 10 feet high wall surrounding our property may be too much for the travelers in town to climb (although we both know the one thing Zobots cannot do is climb since many do not have legs but instead, wheels and will spent hours banging into an obstacle until they fall onto their backs, wheels spinning, rocking back and forth like a tin turtle).   The wall is especially hard since the majority of people nowadays have lost a limb in the fight or have had a limb forcibly removed to even things out for the yearly Sports Day Festival.  You would surely love the one-legged hop race and the one-armed knot tying contest.  Knowing you, you would figure out some way to raise everyone's spirits during the event by asking if the one armed competitors need a hand.  I do so love your cleverness!

I pray this letter finds you and finds well.  I have enclosed a batch of squirrel meat road patties for you and your men to feast on that have stewing in the garden shed for a half year to heighten their flavor.  Do let me know how they taste.

Love your adoring wife,

Hortencia St Bellows