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Dear Agony - Hooked on a feeling
Sep. 20th, 2015 09:12 pmA new periodical has hit a lower city gazette. Along with advertisements hawking wares, no doubt blazing echoes of capitalism to shades of realities, is an advice column for those seeking and recovering from Love's many slings and arrows. Dear Abby is nowhere to be seen in the former column. She has been replaced by Dear Aunt Agony.
"Dear agony, I write upon this parchment to find some succor. My dearest, my precious, my beloved has turned down my offer to wed. I am but a simple Fishmonger! But I am honest, as is my trade and have an honest heart. How I yearn for her. She is the sturgeon that has hooked my heart, rather than the other way around. We were so in love. True as turbots, our hearts like the eyes of such a fish, destined to be almost touching and always on the same side of all matters. Her eyes flashed like iridescent scales. Alas! She has been bewitched by one of the Hounds! His fine uniform. His fine wage. His fine dimpled chin. His lack of a fishy scent. But does not the heart surmount such things?! Dear Agony, I cannot stand our separation. Just the other day I put an iron hook through my palm when my attention was on my lost love. Nearly lost my hand along with my heart. The pain of that comes close to what my fractured heart feels. Woe! Where shall I go to be free of this fell feeling?"
Signed: Hooked On A Feeling.
'Dear HOAF. Heart bled blood syrup when read this letter. Tear stained bit of fishy smelling raggedy paper hit like anchor to chest. Only one way to help with pain. Wear red carnation over heart. Will find you in Little Market. Come see Auntie. I have what you need.
"Dear agony, I write upon this parchment to find some succor. My dearest, my precious, my beloved has turned down my offer to wed. I am but a simple Fishmonger! But I am honest, as is my trade and have an honest heart. How I yearn for her. She is the sturgeon that has hooked my heart, rather than the other way around. We were so in love. True as turbots, our hearts like the eyes of such a fish, destined to be almost touching and always on the same side of all matters. Her eyes flashed like iridescent scales. Alas! She has been bewitched by one of the Hounds! His fine uniform. His fine wage. His fine dimpled chin. His lack of a fishy scent. But does not the heart surmount such things?! Dear Agony, I cannot stand our separation. Just the other day I put an iron hook through my palm when my attention was on my lost love. Nearly lost my hand along with my heart. The pain of that comes close to what my fractured heart feels. Woe! Where shall I go to be free of this fell feeling?"
Signed: Hooked On A Feeling.
'Dear HOAF. Heart bled blood syrup when read this letter. Tear stained bit of fishy smelling raggedy paper hit like anchor to chest. Only one way to help with pain. Wear red carnation over heart. Will find you in Little Market. Come see Auntie. I have what you need.
