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for me to continue my memoirs.
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Now, dear Uncle Ridley...
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Honey
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...exacerbated by my aunt's
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predilection for only the finest parchment,
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woven so tightly the ink took weeks to fully dry.
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Their nest was littered with quills that were never used,
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papers that were never cut, and letters that never dried.
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My aunt often bemoaned the
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situation in letters that she couldn't write to me.
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It drove my poor uncle absolutely batty,
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which is quite a feat for an owl, I assure you.