laphamsquarterly:

A change has overcome my husband. He likes to pore over forbidden manuscripts, and often returns home late, giving the excuse that he has been attending debauches in a neighboring swamp. So why am I never invited? —Sulking

Dear Sulking:

I have been under a great nervous strain since reading your words, which I feel brought me to the brink of an ultra-dimensional realm of nameless terror. It is a wonder I can even bring myself to pen a response. Dalgaard has appeared to me in a dream, begging me to stop answering mail, as this can only draw attention from — but he was too overwrought to finish his sentence. 

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