by J. S. Volpe
* * *
T-mail transmission:
From: Reynard Fuggs
To: Solace Tenant
June 24, 6692; 5:55 PM:
Dear Solace,
Actually, I didn’t originally have a last name. Hardly anyone in my homeworld did. Since last names have become the norm nowadays here in Eridia, I’ve gotten into the habit of using one—and changing it periodically, for privacy’s sake. I’m not one of those Elders who loves the limelight. Some of us, I have to admit, are total attention-whores.
I’d be happy to juggle flaming torches for you! Then again, meeting up might be a problem. Where are you living right now? I’m in Altolinda, on the coast of Twai. It’s not the most populous area or the most well-known, but it’s scenic and it’s quiet. I’ve got a large manor overlooking the ocean. I spend every morning lounging in a local coffee shop called The Diving Bell. The rest of the day is spent strolling about, working on whatever performance pieces I’m working on at the moment, having a Queen Pithylia at the local bar, and taking naps. For some reason, I’ve been really big on naps the last decade or so. Oh, and I’ve also developed a fascination with Acme gadgets. When the latest catalogue arrives, I put everything else on hold till I’ve read it, and I always wind up ordering a few new toys to play with.
Interesting views on government. My own opinion on the government is, the smaller the better. I think people can do fine on their own most of the time, without intrusive bureaucracies nosing about. But then, I try not to discuss politics with people. It usually ends badly. Everyone gets too riled up.
Okay, that’s enough from me for now. Your turn.
—Reynard