Antipo Is Pining Away

Dearest Mrs Social Butterfly,

A strange, low-grade melancholy has set in today. I’m perfectly fine, but have started off the day knowing that your Leave of Absence has condemned me to eight friendless hours in the hellhole I cunningly refer to as 'Work'. What can I possibly write about? My life is dust and ashes without you.

All I can think of is that you and your inconvenience Friend will be riding through Switzerland in a sports car, with the warm wind in your hair. I guess you will have to stop for refreshments at some stage, and will probably toast each other’s good health with champagne. Please let it not be Veuve Coquelicot, but a far inferior brand.

After warming your hands by a roaring fire in a rustic inn, you will surely tuck into a cosy lunch en tête à tête, served by a ruddy-cheeked peasant girl.

At the end of the day you will probably go prancing off together, hand-in-hand, across a picturesque meadow in slow motion and soft focus towards a magnificent, blood-red sunset…

While I sit here and stifle a sob and pine for what might have been…

Also, if you don’t bring me back a copy of the Sexy Priests Calendario from Rome, your salary will be severely docked.

Just remember, our entire relationship (not to mention next year’s Christmas bonus), hangs in the balance….

Unrequited Love and Forlorn Kisses,
Ms. Pitiful McSobSob

xxxxxxxxx