20 April 1746
Dear Ealga,
Meet me by the falls, beneath the rock where we
conceived our fair-haired Aednat.
You will not recognize me for I have been wounded – thrice.
The scars on my face are deep. Poorly healed. Hideous.
But, you will know me for the love
that still swells my heart
to the point of breaking
when I think of you and our wee lassie.
You will see it in my eyes.
Recognize me that way.
Come. Look for me among the stones.
17 April 1746
My Dearest Colm,
Soldiers have ransacked the highlands.
I have heard that on the morrow
troops will search the falls for traitors
and deserters. Do not travel there.
I will take wee Aednat to the ridge above Inverness.
If you still love us, join us there.
The Argyll Militia is on the march.
We can wait but two days.
Hurry! Search for us between the furrows.
Dear Alicia,
Sad outcome of this correspondence on the horizon, I fear. So well written.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thanks, Rochelle. Back to the sad endings I’m afraid. Cheers!
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A touch of sadness to this tale.
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Yes, there is. Thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. Happy New Year.
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