Lit Love Letters

[AtramentousRex]

Dearest Rachael,

The campaign has been long, and trying. All the animals have been used poorly, subjected to the vilest of conditions. The wagons run on broken wheels, and the men walk in tattered boots.

Finding supplies has been a trial, the quartermaster stretching what little food we have in the cleverest of ways, leaving none satiated. We have lost dear companions on this campaign.

Winter cloaks the land in sheets of ice, our foot steps crunching and tinkling as if we walk on broken glass. We are sore, hungry and exhausted beyond thought as we trudge methodically on.

Each night there is less talking as we huddle around dismal fires that serve only to remind us of the relentless cold.

It is at times like this I think of you and despite the distance between us, I remember the feeling of your arms around me. Your memory brings me solace and warmth.

Do you remember how we lay in the dark together in my bed, telling each other stories and secrets? Sharing kisses and reassurance of brighter days?

I long to hold you again, to feel your fingers run through my hair, as we drift to sleep, safe and together in one place. I march ever onward, in the hopes of those brighter times returning.

You face trials and turmoil of your own, this I know and wish I could be by your side, to protect and comfort you. To support you in your need.

I ask that you hold strong my dear one. That you survive to come by my side again soon. If you can withstand the storms of fate, so too, will I.

This is my promise, my covenant, to live through the cold and dark, until we can walk in the light

- Your Faithful Knight in tarnished armour.

 

[sallysparrow23]

To Mine Most Sizzling Flame,

I wander mine chambers sighing like a misunderstood angsty, youth, clutching thy kerchief as though it were a holy relic. Even the cat, normally indifferent to mine plight, now regards me with pity... Or is it spite? Perhaps she plots my demise.

Without thee, my days are as dull as porridge and twice as tasteless. I sought comfort in the fireplace, but alas, it only mocks me with its feeble warmth, for no earthly blaze compares to the inferno of thy presence. Just yesterday, I did attempt to embrace mine pillow as a poor substitute for thee, but it gave no warmth and left feathers in mine hair. I digress that I've been plucking them from my flowing locks for days.

Return to me, my love, lest I perish from this ridiculous longing. Mine friends doth laugh at my plight, calling me lovesick, and methinks they are correct—I am a proper fool for thee. But what care I for their jesting? For when I see thee again, I shall laugh loudest, for I shall be reunited with mine heart’s eternal flame.

Pining, and plucking for thee,
Sally

 

[LadyLascivious1]

My Dearest Gentleman Farmer,

How sweetly I think of the days when my cherries hung heavy, their ruby skins eager to meet your touch. Sharing their sweetness with you brought me a joy I can hardly name, and the memory of your delight lingers like nectar on my lips. You must know by now, dear Sir, that my cherries and peaches are jealously guarded, as I allow no one but you to peak at my fine orchards. But, oh, forgive me for the reckless abundance of my peaches. They swelled with such fervor that they could not be contained, spilling into your lands unbidden. Yet the thought of you gathering them, their tender flesh cradled in your hands, stirs a warmth within me that I cannot deny.

And your aubergines, my darling—it is a marvel. Watching you tend to them with such care, your hands firm yet knowing, fills me with secret delight. How fondly I recall our discussion in the park, where I shared my humble words for growing them firm and proud, and how your understanding brought a glow to my  clit heart. Come back to the orchard soon, my Honey Bee, my blossoms are in need of your tender care, and my fruit ripens in anticipation of your return.

Yours always,
Lady Orchard

My Dearest Lady Orchard,

Your letter, like a sweet zephyr from the south, has graced my heart with a warmth I scarce know how to contain. The mere thought of your orchard—those fields where cherries and peaches grow, and where I have been so fortunate to partake of nature’s bounty—fills me with a sense of duty most sacred and fervent. It is true, as you say, that I have been touched by the very spirit of those fruits, and my heart rejoices in their ripening, even as it grows heavy with longing for your company.

I must admit, dear Lady, that the intrusion of your peaches into my lands, though unbidden, has been a delight to my senses. The sweetness that you so generously describe seems to echo the warmth of your words, and I, though a humble farmer, am but a simple man in the face of such beauty. Had I the wit of poets and the brush of artists, I might paint those peaches for you—but none could capture their tender joy as your letters have captured my heart.

As for my aubergines—ah! To know that you watch with such admiration as I toil in service is a balm to my soul. Your instructions on their care were as those of a seasoned admirer, and I follow them with the utmost diligence, as though I were tending to the very flowers of my heart. The memory of our conversation in the park, where I had the honor of hearing your wisdom on such matters, has not left me; indeed, it has lingered in my mind like the scent of your finest blooms, stirring something deep within me that I scarce understand.

Your orchard, I assure you, is never far from my thoughts, and your blossoms have taken root in my very spirit. I long for the moment when I may again walk among your trees, my hands again touching the fruits that have become symbols not only of your labor, my lips savoring the very sweetness that you have cultivated, but of your affection, which I hold dearer than all the harvests of the earth.

I long to moisten your garden again,

The Gentleman Farmer

Aubergines? Plural?!

 

[Qky75]

Aubergines? Plural?!

At least they weren't courgettes. Could you imagine? Barbed like a cat?!?!?

 

[MindYaBitness]

My Dearest Sister,

I write to you in the wake of a most peculiar ordeal, one that has left me both astonished and curiously invigorated. During my recent convalescence, I found myself enervated by what I now believe to be supernatural forces preying upon my vulnerable state. By some stroke of Providence, I came upon the Gentleman Farmer, a man of prepossessing features and unassuming demeanor, yet extraordinary talents in expelling such otherworldly nuisances. In a single day, he exorcised no fewer than nine banshees from my person! The ruckus of their departure was such that the neighbors surely mistook it for the cries of a cat in heat.

Now, I find myself restored to a state of remarkable relaxation, as though the weight of the unseen has been lifted entirely. So effective was his therapy that I have committed to engaging his services bi-weekly, trusting in his unique methods to maintain my newfound vigor. Should you ever find yourself plagued by similar afflictions, I cannot recommend the Gentleman Farmer highly enough.

Yours in restored spirits,
MindY a. Bitness

 

[deefalttwunnyfor]

My Dearest Sister,

I write to you in the wake of a most peculiar ordeal, one that has left me both astonished and curiously invigorated. During my recent convalescence, I found myself enervated by what I now believe to be supernatural forces preying upon my vulnerable state. By some stroke of Providence, I came upon the Gentleman Farmer, a man of prepossessing features and unassuming demeanor, yet extraordinary talents in expelling such otherworldly nuisances. In a single day, he exorcised no fewer than nine banshees from my person! The ruckus of their departure was such that the neighbors surely mistook it for the cries of a cat in heat.

Now, I find myself restored to a state of remarkable relaxation, as though the weight of the unseen has been lifted entirely. So effective was his therapy that I have committed to engaging his services bi-weekly, trusting in his unique methods to maintain my newfound vigor. Should you ever find yourself plagued by similar afflictions, I cannot recommend the Gentleman Farmer highly enough.

Yours in restored spirits,
MindY a. Bitness

Nine banshees!!!! Is this guy a farmer or a miracle worker?

 

[Qky75]

O Aurelia of my heart,

Before, I delighted in the sweet melody of bells as they rang out their joyous notes. My spirit, like the lark, would ascend upon hearing the harmony of birds in song. My heart, tender and yielding, would warm at the sound of a child’s innocent laughter. Yet, alas, all these pleasures vanished into a profound and unyielding silence on the fateful day when I first heard your voice. Together, we laughed until tears of mirth adorned our cheeks. We discoursed upon the weighty matters of truth, love, and mutual respect. You perceived the shadows of my unease and with gentle skill, banished them from my breast. Our minds, as if by some divine design, found perfect accord. For those brief and fleeting moments, we were but one soul united.

Fervently yours,

Quincy

 

[MindYaBitness]

Nine banshees!!!! Is this guy a farmer or a miracle worker?

 

[UnquietDreams]

My Dearest Sister,

I write to you in the wake of a most peculiar ordeal, one that has left me both astonished and curiously invigorated. During my recent convalescence, I found myself enervated by what I now believe to be supernatural forces preying upon my vulnerable state. By some stroke of Providence, I came upon the Gentleman Farmer, a man of prepossessing features and unassuming demeanor, yet extraordinary talents in expelling such otherworldly nuisances. In a single day, he exorcised no fewer than nine banshees from my person! The ruckus of their departure was such that the neighbors surely mistook it for the cries of a cat in heat.

Now, I find myself restored to a state of remarkable relaxation, as though the weight of the unseen has been lifted entirely. So effective was his therapy that I have committed to engaging his services bi-weekly, trusting in his unique methods to maintain my newfound vigor. Should you ever find yourself plagued by similar afflictions, I cannot recommend the Gentleman Farmer highly enough.

Yours in restored spirits,
MindY a. Bitness

But...

But...

That's not...that's not how banshees work...

Oh, nevermind...

 

[Qky75]

My long-suffering beloved,

Pray, permit me to unburden my heart, for it is heavy with regret and sorrow. In the folly of my ways, I have strayed from the path of righteousness, and the thought of the anguish I have caused thee weighs upon my soul as a millstone.

It is with trembling hand and fervent heart that I set my quill to parchment, endeavoring to convey the depth of my misfortune.

Willemina Jean is not my mistress; she is but a damsel who doth assert that I am the chosen one. Yet the child of whom she speaks is not begotten of me.

I beseech thee, by the bonds of our sacred union and the love we once shared, to grant me thy forgiveness. My spirit is restless, yearning for the warmth of thy presence and the solace of our hearth, which I have so foolishly forsaken.

Thine ever, in earnest supplication,