A Tortured Soul

(The word 'Loon' here is an internal family joke. When we were young, we had a family of that name living in out gatelodge, and we told L'Innomable that he was not really a member of our family, because he was the only one with fair hair, he was a Loon).

Don’t Be A Loon

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My brother is a tortured soul, his response being to torture the soul of others. The tortured becomes the torturer. L’Innommable (the unnameable), as I call him elsewhere, has divorced himself from his original family although he does not agree with divorce. He, and we, should remember what our uncle said, There is a little bit of good in the worst of us and a little bit of bad in the best of us.

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Billy, come home.

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At least, ring your brother in England before he dies, speaking to his wife as well, why not. She has uncommon common sense. When I ask you to ring your brother, I don’t mean wring his neck. Aristocrats have the privilege of being hanged by a silken rope.

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As you sow, so shall you reap.

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I will let Johnny Cash sing my last words for me, Come home, come home, its supper time.

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Your loving brother,

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David (****)

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(The above has been sent to the man himself, and I don’t mean The Man Upstairs, although it may have gone via Him).