Letter 1

Dearest Kachumu,

I know you always understand me but I’ll insist and beg your pardon for this rather late reply. My conscience tells me you are doing fine; otherwise, I would have suffered a little cold and fever. I always do whenever you fall sick and you telling me is merely a confirmation of the obvious. I noticed you didn’t ask how I was doing in your last letter, which is very unusual and must force me to think hard. But whenever thoughts wander in vain, it’s best to forget everything and say sorry. My dear, I am sorry. Anyways, I am in good health and mind and if it were not for the hot dry|sunny season, I would be moisturised. But a jelly will help keep my skin intact.

I will address to you the latest merrymaker that befell me last evening. I was too tired to laugh and laugh heartily. The entire moment of it was captivating, thrilling and cheer filled. It was the arrival of the harbinger rains for the wet season. A sudden thunderbolt and then a quiet. A flash across the sky and a gentle breeze that stood my hair. A pint on my forehead and then a drop and the multiples of them. A mark where they hit the bare ground and the soil|dust scent pronounced its departure in capital letters. I witnessed the dust confined to the ground to make the soil mud and then did I make another stride to continue my walk home in the gentle showers. It felt smooth to feel the drops of rain run down my torn skin, gently masking the cracks to leave them inconspicuous by home time. Tomorrow will be better than yesterday and today. And then you can ask how I am doing once again for I promise I won’t sadden you with tales of the horrors of the smiling sun.

I hope this will cheer you up, my friend. Till I write again, next week, I remain,

Yours loving,

Atwine