harbinger or bringer

Dear mother, so close to me and yet so far away, I am sending this letter to you because your landline doesn’t text, your phone is almost always busy with dial-up, and you love hearing the mailman knock on your door to hand you your letters. I offered to pay for your house to be moved here to Soona Bris, but you complained that it smelled like burning bodies even though no bodies have ever been burned here. My offer still stands if you wish to escape the seemingly frozen time that Willow River seems to be stuck in.
Anyways, my apologies that I didn’t pick you up for Christmas vacation as soon as I had promised. I had a few wards in my care, one of which killed herself outside of my control and the other one tried to kill me. I had to drop them temporarily, you see, for while I escaped from the latter with my life, I was nowhere near unscathed and had to spend a few weeks at the hospital. I can’t tell you the details; I really do hope you’ll understand.
A friend of mine should be coming over to your house sometime next week to make sure that your house is still structurally sound. The “house on a hill” that seems to be the epitome of seclusion simply must be brought up to date with the newest building codes.
But on a more interesting note, I am poisoned with the dart of love, Mother… I have finally found the one that I want to treat as my equal and spend all my days with and, with her permission, maybe leave the drab days of being solitary in my efforts behind. Problem is, she either doesn’t know of my existence because I’ve stayed hidden from her so far, or she hates me… because I created her. I picked the perfect parts; I watched her organs blossom into life; I watched her skin being sewn up with the essence of life; I watched her first rise and fall of the chest, tangled in a jungle of wires and tubes… Please don’t be alarmed, Mom- you would love her if you saw her, for you would see the same cluelessness in her eyes as you know are in yours.
All yours and waiting for your next invitation, which I am sure will be an absolute delight,
-Anders Shew


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