Dearest Laertes

Dearest Laertes,
I have done as you and our frothy rump-fed pignut father have asked; I have kept my distance from my dearest Hamlet. It is painful not to see his face every day. I love him Laeretes, “And hath given countenance to his speech, with almost all the holy vows of heaven.” I trust him with all my heart. But as I have also said that your advice is locked away in my memory I have made an effort to follow it, even though it causes me pain.
How are you doing in France? Is it all it was before? Are you doing as I am, following our father’s advice? I wish I was there with you. I would love to travel to anywhere but here. The war, my lost love, it all hurts to be around. You on the other hand get to start over completely fresh. I have to say I am jealous of you. Maybe in a couple of years I will be able to travel the world, maybe by boat. Don’t forget what father has said, “Be thou familiar but by no means vulgar.” One thing with father not all his advice is useful but sometimes he can pull something out. I miss you dearly Laertes. Do behave yourself.

Love your dearest sister, Ophelia