I’ve had a great few months of activity but sadly not writing activity.  You know the sort of Summer stuff that we all do, festivals, holidays, general outdoorsy stuff. Well having just come back from a few weeks in wonderfully hot & sunny Croatia to some cold, wet & dreary UK weather I’m pretty sure all that wonderful stuff is behind me now & the rest of the year is likely to be taken up with more indoor pursuits, although we do have the Birmingham Literature Festival coming up soon which is always good. Generally though I’ll try to buckle down & produce a bit more material.  Anyway here’s a start. Whilst on holiday with a bunch of friends we were talking about apology letters which are apparently trending right now – who knew? Not me that’s for sure. It got me thinking about the first possible apology letter & here’s what I came up with….

Dear Adam

I know we don’t usually write to each other but, as you’re refusing to speak to me at the moment you’ve left me no option but to use this form of communication.

Firstly let me say that I’m sorry the way things have turned out with your mate God. It wasn’t my intention to cause a rift between the two of you but, in my defence, I do think he over reacted somewhat and he did rather annoy me with that whole “forbidden fruit” thing like it was something really precious. It was, after all, just a scabby apple – not even that tasty actually.

Also, while we’re on the subject of being just a little bit irritating, he is a bit up himself isn’t he?  All that “I created man in my own image” rubbish. I don’t think so somehow, you’re way better looking than him! And don’t get me started on the speech about cobbling me together from a spare bit of bone that you happened to have knocking around. I mean, how does he think that helps my confidence? My self esteem is rock bottom at the moment and we know who’s to blame for that don’t we? Is it any wonder I turned to the serpent for a little reassurance, especially when you two are always looking down on me? I know you think it’s all in my imagination but you can’t deny that the two of you are always going off on your own to do “man stuff” – like you’re so special.

Anyway, to get back to the subject in hand, I feel that if we are going to move forward in our relationship, yes I am using the R word again, we really need to examine the events of that day so that we can understand where it all went wrong. As you won’t talk about it I thought I’d start us off, so here we go.

You may have noticed that morning I was heartily pissed off because you had just come back from an all-nighter with God, apparently putting the finishing touches to the moon and the stars. Oh please, like I haven’t heard that one before. Your breath reeked of Agave nectar for pity’s sake! So then I had to amuse myself while you had a little sleep to recuperate and even when you woke up you were a right grump. When I asked to hunt for food you were “too knackered Babes” and what was it you said? Oh yes, “Just go and find a bit of fruit or something, anything’ll do.” So I thought right we’ll see about that then and the rest, as you know, is history.

How was I to know old Misery Guts was going to have a big hissy fit? It was partly his fault that I took the bloody thing anyway. In fact it was both your faults really: if you had only paid me a bit more attention we wouldn’t be in this situation now. You should really be saying sorry to me but, because I know how difficult it is for you men to admit you were in the wrong and because I’m a very magnanimous person, I’ll be the first to apologise. All you need to do now to get this relationship back on track is to agree that you’re really to blame and everything will be fine.

Don’t worry about God, I’m sure he’ll come round eventually, he needs us more than we need him: at least we’ve got each other, who else has he got to talk to? And if he doesn’t, well that just gives us more time to spend together which is great isn’t it?

Why don’t you come on over and try my forbidden fruits? Come on Ads you know you want too

Evie’s waiting  xx

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