Dearest sister,
Have you ever met an average male human? Are they ugly? Do they have something wrong with them?
As you know I’ve always been a nervous traveller and, unlike you, have yet to leave the forest let alone jump the water, so I’ve not seen one myself.
I’ve heard rumours that some have hairy faces and backs, and that if they eat too much they let out a stench.
When Maggie went to the other side of the stream for a family holiday in the park, she said she saw one hit a female human in the face with his hand.
Apparently their hands are quite strange too. Maggie said the male human she saw had dirty, podgy fingers and that they didn’t have pretty colours on them like the female human fingers did. And once he’d finished hitting her, he gave her a cuddle and fed her bread. He didn’t even wash his fingers! We may live in a forest, but Rupert and I wash before every meal. It’s just good manners.
Not that it matters anymore.
Oh sister, how I wish you were here.
I’m sorry if it seems I only write to you with troubles, but I ask if you’ve met an average human male before because for the third time in the space of, what, two years now, I’ve lost a boyfriend to a female human. Why must their females come to our homes and steal our partners, our lovers, our soul mates? Why do they not stick to their own?
When it happened with Tod and Freddie, yes I was sad, but I got over them quite quickly. They were both rotten boys. I never felt love, affection or even a dash of commitment from them. No matter how many kids we had, I was always looking over my shoulder. I’m much better off without those two.
But Rupert? Not Rupert.
Sweet, sweet Rupert.
I can’t do without Rupert.
You never met Rupert, and for that I’ll be forever sorry. His jokes and stories would have floored you. He’s seen the world, like you, but he was happy making a home, a loving home, with me.
I’d regularly ask whether he would have preferred to keep travelling, hopping from place to place, seeing more of the world, and he’d always just snuggle up to me and whisper: “I’ve seen the world, now I have it right beside me.”
Oh sweet, sweet Rupert.
I’ll try to describe him to you but I fear my efforts will be below par, as the words of which to paint the picture of Rupert are yet to be invented.
The first thing that struck me about Rupert were his eyes. They swallowed all he saw and I soon fell into them. He had a healthy thirst for the new. That’s not to say he’d disregard the old, far from it. Rupert embraced life and intoxicated those around him.
His tongue was a thing of wonder. I wish not to get too graphic, but the things he did with it still make me tremor. The lengths to which it could stretch never failed to baffle me.
Oh sweet, sweet Rupert.
How I miss his skin, his soft, supple skin pressed against mine, his breath intoxicating me. His strong, powerful legs. I’d often just sit and stare at his legs. They gave him the spring in his step, the platform to provide food for me and my family.
And that’s what I’ll miss the most, sister: Rupert’s kindness. To me and to my children. He saw us as an extension of himself and would fight off any danger, big or small, to keep us fit and healthy. He was a great father, I’m just saddened that I never got to mother any of his own.
We’d planned to have kids, you see. We had it all figured out, until the incident took place.
It was a nice morning so Rupert and I decided to have a day out together, just the two of us. Love was very much in the air, as true as the sun was in the sky.
After a quick nibble I nestled in the grass and watched Rupert splash about in the stream. The sound of him giggling as the fish tickled his feet washed over me like a dream and I closed my eyes.
Oh sister, how I wish I never closed my eyes as when I awoke I was presented with my nightmare.
Stood in front on me was a female human. She had hair like a weeping willow, drooping down her elegant spine, with a cluster of shiny diamonds sitting on top. Her backside was just as pert as her bosom, whilst her lips, her damned lips, were pressed against those of Rupert who rested comfortably in her hand.
After a moment Rupert burst into a thousand rays of light. The glow shone like the halo that hovered above his head throughout our relationship, until he was no longer himself. He was a hundred times taller. He was a hundred miles away. The man of my dreams was now the man of the female human’s.
As they walked away, hand in hand, Rupert turned his giant, alien head my way. His eyes were different, but they swallowed me all over again as he mouthed a word I didn’t understand and then disappeared forever.
Sister, I am lost. I am green with envy and I fear for my heart.
Visit soon.
Forever yours,
Lilly P.
© Carl Burkitt 2013
Carl tells tales 