Love Letters from Satan - letter 1

Dear Friend,

I apologize I could not meet with you last week but I did hear the news that Roger Spato insulted you while at the theatre. Don't worry my friend. I assure you that I am Roger Spato. I am also Spato's wife Penelope and Lilibeth, their darling daughter. I write letters to her of a startling clarity. I can send a copy of one to you if you like for I make copies of all my letters, including this one. It is, with all humility, an endeavor of a historical nature.

I write to tell you I bring the world a new way. Or rather a new perspective of an old and calamitous philosophy. By the way, if while reading this letter you happen to hear music, do not be surprised. Twice a week, a quartet plays outside my window and they arrive punctually and in tune. At the moment, they are applying themselves to a vivacious adaptation of a Janacek concerto. I must thank God for creating music. It is one of the beasts I have absolutely no desire to corrupt.

Speaking of beasts, dear friend, the grocery store is not far and I would like to invite you for a little bite of supper one of these good nights. I am on very good footing with the grocers and I doubly assure you that they put aside all the best legumes for me. Is it not bizarre how France, Germany, and England are claimed to be the fashionable legume countries now when everyone knows the best legumes are to be found here? Imagine my surprise when I picked up the newspaper this morning to read of this. It is such a tedious endeavor to appease the Europeans but appease them I will. Only in the French language is it even possible to subscribe to such flighty notions so I will assume they were the ring leaders of this malfeasance.

As to our supper and my explanation of the new way, I urge you to accept my generous invitation. We are both free men, unencumbered by career or family concerns and one night away from all the mind-numbing festivities of this time of year might do you well. Do not be troubled that only I will be talking. You will certainly have events to relate to me as it pertains to the new opera I am writing. You did hear did you not? A liberating account of the dog races played out on a bifurcated stage where the upper half represents--what else?--heaven, and the lower half, my little room. Wear panties. The new way is rather warm.

Love always,

Satan

write to Satan at loveletters @ pretendgenius.com

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It would have been better for me if I had been a dairy farmer instead of Satan but my selflessness was ingrained in me at an early age. How could I allow another to suffer the humiliation and ostracism I have suffered? You might think it difficult for me to find a pleasant little nook to settle into but I have found a small room to live in above a tobacco shop across from the University Hospital where I was born Tundey Abikinaba. You would be surprised to know that despite my lack of formal education or military training I still manage to pay the two-hundred and fifty dollars rent each month, which conveniently enough, includes all the washing of my dirty linens and a once a month shining of the old boots worn by my father.