My dearest Aunt Agatha,
Upon
my arrival in Cyprus, I happen to stumble upon quite faint young woman at the
pub, whom I have to say, caught my eye. We spent many hours conversing with the
locals there. But little did I know who this mysterious beauty truly was; I was
played! A distraction used to defer the men whom she had stolen precious
treasures from. They barged into the bar interrupting our conversation, rather rudely
I might add, with their grizzly manner it was apparent that these were manly
men. Despite the efforts of my young acquaintance to go incognito they spotted
her amongst the crowd. Her face deranged with fear she led us out the back
door. “No time to explain,” She shouted, “we must go!” We flocked through
surrounding fields like wild geese until we found safety in a nearby cheese
factory. However they were not far behind, prepared to regain their goods the
men were armed with loaded muskets and ready to fire. There we were crouched
behind a barrel of feta cheese when the largest of them all pulled the trigger.
Luckily he had not the best of aim. The bullet spiraled through the air
colliding with a nearby bucket of sesame oil and simultaneously knocking over a
candle. Fire spread, livestock broke free from their pens, and the place
went up in flames. Running for my life I tumbled to the ground, turning back to
see nothing but a burning pile of rubbish. And there she was in the distance running
away, I did not and shall never know her name. My gaze was broke by what seemed
to be snowflakes. But to my surprise it was, the cheese; it had been toasted to
crisp within the explosion, creating this delightful snack I’ve sent you. Are
they not simply sheer perfection?
With great regards,
Phileas Fogg
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