A missive for Lucinda.

I found great charm, in the grammatically incoherent phraseology of colloquial humor, despite the stringent locus of my informed leisures, and the adamant abstinence to engage with the pardoning of nonchalant displays of inaptitude. The youth have assigned a cause to this obscenely decadent play of locution, and I was at first hostile towards the foul subordination, until a student of mine, Leonard introduced me to this etude of precept. I thought it would be an immutable arsenal against our learning of literature, but I suppose my rapport with the adolescents was a supreme denominator to my own acquiescence. I only inhibited the adoption of profanity, during this time of scrutiny, and wonder. It is however notable that, I have settled in well in the city, during this time, but it is not clear when I shall return home. This week I have indulged myself to the favors of a local library and have procured opulent quires of George Eliot, and dare I say Bram Stoker. There is something poetically exquisite in these vital accounts, of the phantasmagoric novelette of The lifted veil, but my reading is not altogether complete. The weather here in London, is not much of a predicament to me, despite its notorious inclemency, for the scenery and acoustics, have bade me sensual comfort. I am only abundantly assailable to the languish of my forlorn state, but it is ludicrous to dismiss myself from my occupative acquisition, and demography for undisputable reasons. You will pardon me for not delegating the industrious relegation of my unbridled blasphemous anxieties, to a trusted therapist. It is the customary vice of my nature to be reticent on these cognitive involvements. The abuse will not wane me from my health, and I have the company of intelligent, albeit morbidly comical students, to grant me a dose of distraction. I shall begin penning a book of my own soon, perhaps it will be a tale of dystopian Vampirism. Embrace my daughter for me, Lucinda and tell her that she is loved.

Your husband __Christopher