Letter From King Flynn 9/10/11
My Dearest Queen,
Allow me to weave for you a brief tale of woe. A tapestry of heartache, so to speak. A tapestry woven by a little old lady whose fingers bled as she constructed this masterpiece of misery, chuckling to herself the whole while about how funny it would be to give this tapestry to a king for his great hall without him realizing that it was inked in with her wretched blood.
Today marked a milestone in muck as I set myself to the task of acquiring the necessary supplies for my beginning drawing class. I began by sending my messenger hawk forth to the great marketplace known to most peasants these days as “the internet,” seeking a few simple supplies. Upon discovering that one of the vendors would not accept my royal debit card for payment, I set out into the town to visit the vendor in person. However, as I was riding my two-wheeled transport device, a rain storm blew in, bringing the temperature down to an discomforting fourty-two degrees and soaking my person thoroughly. Moreover, I was misguided by the directions I’d received from the vendor to reach the supply establishment and became hopelessly lost and cold. Eventually I decided to simply turn back and return to my quarters, but not without the bitter taste of defeat building up in my mouth, forcing me to spit upon my fate.
While today marks a rather unsavory loss on my part, I fully intend to acquaint myself with the local marketplace’s layout by having my hawk bring me more maps of the area. I will be triumphant tomorrow.
In other news, all is going fairly well with my classes. No one has yet uncovered my secret identity, thus my humble peasant disguise continues to be effective. In my climbing class, we learned crack climbing, which essentially consists of cramming one’s hands and feet into cracks in the wall and wedging oneself in place, using gravity and tension to hold oneself up. It’s even harder than it sounds. Indeed, one student’s hands were so badly chafed that they began to bleed. I avoided such a fate through generous use of chalk. My new climbing equipment is truly putting my old gear to shame.
That’s really about all there is to write about for now. I do hope you’re safe from the fires back home.
Royally Yours,
King Flynn
