Dear Dustin,
My, it’s been ever so long since I put pen to paper to write you, darling brother. It would have been longer but they took me out of the restraints a week ahead schedule. The circulation in my hands is back and to see if they still work, and to kill some time before the “Judge Judy” marathon, I thought I’d drop you a line.
How are Ariadne and the children? Has Ernest gotten over the Cow Pox yet? I didn’t think humans were susceptible to that particular disease, but I’m no physician. Have you let Lillian back in the house yet? December is coming, and while I do agree that there’s no excuse for her stealing grain alcohol, I do think keeping her chained in the backyard is a tad extreme.
Speaking of extreme, I suppose you’re wondering what I’m doing back at the “Asylum”. The easiest way to put it is that it’s over between Cyril and I.
I know that will come as a shock to you. After five years of connubial bliss, punctuated by the occasional incident of homicidal rage, who would have predicted such an ending? I mean other than Mum who kept muttering, “It was only a matter of time”, which was no help at all at the trial, I can tell you.
I suppose you could say it was my fault. Everybody else in the family, the police department, the prosecuting attorney, and the Judge did. I myself thought it was justifiable homicide and luckily for me so did the jury. They may have called it insanity, but as far as I’m concerned it’s the same thing. He drove me crazy so I put a Bedazzling stud through his forehead. Six of one, if you ask me.
Anyway, to make a long story short, Cyril is dead, Rupert has taken custody of the children (even though I’m fairly certain Mikumba is not his), and Mum has been taken to St. Herbert of the Blessed Sandals Nursing Home. And, as previously mentioned, I’m back at the “Looney Bin” where they keep me on a fairly strict drug regimen, and they have HBO.
Personally, I call it a Win/Win.
Do write soon.
Your Loving Sister
Gladys Threadneedle (The Former Mrs.)
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