Dear Angelica,
I recently had a terrible encounter with the worst creature on the earth. It was large, it had long antennas on it's head, and was a horrendous shade of orange. I do not understand what would posses the Lord to create something so awful, so terrifying, so useless as...
the Butterfly.
Why are they so big? Why do they come in so many different colours? Why are they so quiet? Why does every single one of them prefer my garden to the neighbor's? Why do they hate me so much?
They always seem to find a way to ruin my day.
I have found that these despicable creatures move in clusters in the fall, so stepping outside that time of year could result in an ambush of large wings and antennas (why must they have those antennas?). They seem to disappear when that horrid white slush falls from the sky. Perhaps they dislike the 'Snow' as much as I do. Then, they come back with an instinct to bother innocent men like me in the spring and summer.
Last week, I had a traumatizing experience with a large orange butterfly. I had spent the night in a tavern with Mr. Mulligan. We had a great time drinking and laughing at whatever mistake Mr. Burr made that day. We were walking on the sidewalk headed towards the harbor when, it came. It was silent. Neither of us new it was near. I saw a flash of orange go by my head. I turned around, trying to spot what it was, but nothing was there. We kept walking. Only for a giant, terrifying and very orange butterfly to land on my nose! I shrieked, only angering the butterfly who proceeded to flap it's wings while it was still on my face! I yelled for Mr. Mulligan to help me get the ferocious butterfly away from me, and do you know what he did? He laughed at me! There was a butterfly on my face, getting ready to attack me, and he laughed! Eventually, he waved his hand to command the butterfly to leave my nose alone (while still laughing), and he walked me home. I made him check my home for more butterflies just in case the butterfly left a scent on me that would attract other butterflies. Once we were certain my home was free of those dreadful beings, we said goodnight and wrote a thirty page essay about why we should ban butterflies from our country.
I hope the butterflies aren't bothering you in London,
Alexander.
"Angelica, dear, what's so funny?"
"Oh nothing, do you think we have picture frames small enough for this letter my brother-in-law sent me?"