Dearest Emma by Adam Rutter

credit:gencraft

Through the tall, narrow window, I stoically watched a young couple walking up the street in knee-deep snow. Parked on the other side, leaving the headlamps exposed. The highest buildings in the distance were a haze in the snow drift. Standing in a small room, I looked down at the typewriter with melancholy, wishing I was with my dear wife, Emma. The typewriter was the closest thing I could be with her. It was given to us as a wedding present. During our fifteen years of marriage, we have shared the same typewriter, bringing it with me to my London apartment, typing correspondences for my clients. I, Lawrence Rendleford, a solicitor provided legal advice while endeavouring to settle legal disputes for the people in the capital and the Home Counties. On this particular occasion, I typed a correspondence on a personal matter. A letter to Emma. So I pulled the chair out from under my desk, sat, and began typing. The clacking of the keys. The lingering smell of her perfume. A constant reminder of her presence.

The letter began with the usual salutation, which any devoted husband would start with:

 Dearest Emma,

              It has been a long time, perhaps too long since you have heard from me. A week of your absence seems like an eternity. Each key that I press on our faithful friend is like being in the same room with you, although it cannot replace the feeling of emptiness. I was going to speak to you on the telephone this evening, but the weight of the snow has brought telegraph cables down, cutting off communication in London and the surrounding area, which is a nuisance. To type this letter is the nearest I can get to talking with you. I was so looking forward to coming home at the weekend. But alas, the dreadful snowstorm has put the kybosh on it. Has Rex been a good dog while I have been away? I bet he is enjoying the weather. I can imagine Rex rolling about in the snow. If only I were there to see that now. The wintery weather is expected to last well into next week, which means that I will have to work from my apartment for the time being. One of my employees is staying in the same temporary accommodation as me, currently using their room as a makeshift office.

Even after being two days in London, I was missing you already. Let us hope that I will be hope that I will be home in time for Christmas. More to the point, I hope my letter gets to you before the festive season. The snow is causing terrible delays with the postal system. It is not good for business. Anyway, I mustn’t grumble. Besides, you hear me grumble all the time. Still when you do get this letter, it will keep you smiling during the hard winter.

I hope to be back soon.

Yours truly,

Lawrence