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The Great Divide - Printable Version

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The Great Divide - Jupiter Smith - December 9, 2020

December 13th, 1890
Alfred
Do you ever consider the great divide of your life? The split between the before and after your unfortunate misadventure in South America? Very few understand what I mean by this, but I thought perhaps you might. I do, however, understand if you don't wish to speak upon it.

There was an unfortunate incident in Egypt, and I, too, now know what it means to have a great divide in my life. A before and after. Only, I haven't a clue how to proceed within the after. Where do you turn when the only career you ever dreamt to have is no longer an option? Or, at least, will not be an option for some time. I'll always be able to work in my sister's shop, I suppose, but what sort of life is that? Trapped in some dusty old antique shop that sees fewer people than I did living in some of the most remote places in the world?

I guess I'm asking for your advice. I would ask to go for a drink, but truthfully I'm not capable of sitting in a pub for any amount of time at present.

I hope you're well otherwise. Congratulations on your courtship with Miss Fisk.
Jo Smith
Although her handwriting contains much of the same characteristics, it is now a much sloppier version. Some letters have random lines going through them as though the quill suddenly shifted mid-stroke.



RE: The Great Divide - J. Alfred Darrow - December 10, 2020

December 15
J,

I think about it often. Of course it wasn't quite as clean as that, a sudden transition moment, because it happened over the whole time I was in South America and I don't think I realized exactly how big the change was until I returned. I'm a very different person than I was before, and I don't know that those two people — me then and me now — even have much in common.

I don't usually tell people this but there was a woman I knew before, who I'd promised to marry — which you might have already deduced if you've read those blasted memoirs — and sometimes people ask me about her, whether she died while I was away or married someone else. She didn't. She's still here, perfectly available if I were to follow through on that promise, but — well, it's like it was made by a different person. She didn't die while I was away, but in a way I suppose I did.

I would push back against your characterization of my time abroad as "unfortunate," however. Certainly I thought so at the time, and certainly some parts were... if there were any way to undo the deaths of my shipmates of course I would seize on it in a moment. But the experience overall I would not say was unfortunate. It is so much a part of me that I could not be myself without it. It's a foundation on which the whole rest of my life has been built.

As for a career, I'm not sure my advice would be terribly helpful. When I thought I'd never sail again, I learned to spear-hunt wild boar and perform minor healing magic by chanting, which is probably not the sort of answer you're looking for.

But in seriousness, I suppose I clung so long to what I could — the idea that we could walk out of the wilderness and back to our normal lives — that eventually I just had to let go of it and seize on what I had instead. And though a part of me will always long for the open seas and navigating by starlight, a part of me was happy, there, too. So don't abandon hope.

What's happened in Egypt?

Alfred


P.S.: Thank you for the congratulations; courting is rather complicated but I suppose they're warranted all the same.




RE: The Great Divide - Jupiter Smith - December 12, 2020

December 16th, 1890
Alfred
I suppose therein lies the difference of your experience lasting years and mine happening all at once: I didn't have time to both adjust to my new reality or form positive memories. Then again, I wouldn't wish to be absent for years from my family and friends lives. I'm not a huge fan of children, but I do love my nieces and nephews.

Egypt was great until it wasn't. We were investigating this tomb and I grew careless. There was an accident, truthfully I don't remember much of it. The healers did what they could do for my hand, it was cursed you see, but I'll never be able to use it as I once did. I can barely hold a bloody fork in it, nevermind my wand.

I was so foolish, Alfred. Such a bloody fool, and now I have to live in the after. I fucking hate the after.
Jo
Although her handwriting contains much of the same characteristics, it is now a much sloppier version. Some letters have random lines going through them as though the quill suddenly shifted mid-stroke.



RE: The Great Divide - J. Alfred Darrow - December 13, 2020

December 17
J,

Come over to my place. I'll teach you some wandless magic.
Alfred