June 5th, 1832
Dear Mama, I hope this letter finds you well. It may be the last time I write for.a very, very long while. It's imperative that you don't let Papa burn this one, like the others.
Enjolras says that great, glorious things lie ahead for France. I don't know if I believe him or not, but I'll help with his revolution if there's more wine in it for me. A sad day is this when all a man can depend on in life is his wine. Or absinthe. I guess it doesn't matter much to me, either way.
Back to Enjolras. He's bound to be the leader of the new Republic, if he doesn't get us all killed first. I hope it won't come to that, Mama. I'm afraid.
Do you remember how, when I was a child, Papa tried to teach me to add the long columns of numbers? For so long, I couldn't understand it, couldn't understand why he was so angry with me. I can compare my entire life to that. I never understand things until it is too late.
I've learned not to chase after anything as long as I live. If you don't hope for anything, you won't be disappointed in the end. Tell Armand that it's like chasing butterflies in a field. You run and run for hours, till you're tired and aching, and just when you think you've outwitted the little beast, it eludes you again, and you're alone in the field.
Mama, from my window, I can see my friends marching in the streets. I suppose it's off to Corinth for whatever lies ahead. Goodbye.
-R
Dear Mama, I hope this letter finds you well. It may be the last time I write for.a very, very long while. It's imperative that you don't let Papa burn this one, like the others.
Enjolras says that great, glorious things lie ahead for France. I don't know if I believe him or not, but I'll help with his revolution if there's more wine in it for me. A sad day is this when all a man can depend on in life is his wine. Or absinthe. I guess it doesn't matter much to me, either way.
Back to Enjolras. He's bound to be the leader of the new Republic, if he doesn't get us all killed first. I hope it won't come to that, Mama. I'm afraid.
Do you remember how, when I was a child, Papa tried to teach me to add the long columns of numbers? For so long, I couldn't understand it, couldn't understand why he was so angry with me. I can compare my entire life to that. I never understand things until it is too late.
I've learned not to chase after anything as long as I live. If you don't hope for anything, you won't be disappointed in the end. Tell Armand that it's like chasing butterflies in a field. You run and run for hours, till you're tired and aching, and just when you think you've outwitted the little beast, it eludes you again, and you're alone in the field.
Mama, from my window, I can see my friends marching in the streets. I suppose it's off to Corinth for whatever lies ahead. Goodbye.
-R