Dear Annie...a letter I found.

Here is a letter I found inside a book (Voltaires's Candide). It is undated.

Dear Annie,

It is a long time since I last heard from you: I hope you've been well.

Things have been unusually grim here.

My room is at the end of a long corridor, and overlooks the courtyard. It is small and I have to lie on the bed to take my shoes off. I have a wardrobe, a small desk and a bed.

I sit at the desk and look out the window. Usually I hear little from the courtyard except the sound of water running down the drains. At times the face of one of my neighbours appears in one of the windows, usually a pasty faced woman, with grey hair. I cannot see her features more clearly. There are net curtains on most windows, the atmosphere tranquil, like a Dutch painting and I would not be surpised to see a clog-wearing servant appear with a white smock and bonnet and broom at any moment. Also, twice I saw a siamese cat, perched with absurd elegance on the seat of an old bicycle.

I am fighting the goblins still: we have reached a sort of truce: the room has been deivided in two, we marked the floor with a white chalk: I get the left side, they take the right.The line cuts the bed, but that cannot be helped, at least they aren't shreiking all the time.

I hope to see you soon,

I suppose I wrote the letter some years ago in Camberwell, but it is undated.