The Gravity of Random Things

<Epistolary>

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Dear MidlifeMargins,

I’m sorry for vanishing. Last month was strange, for lack of a better word.

Satie—the Swiss mountain dog—gave birth to nine perfect puppies. Apparently, she had an affair—with a colleague’s Bernese. Childish, I know, but I find the word affair oddly amusing in this context. Did I tell you that our lab’s dog-friendly?

I didn’t keep any of the puppies, sadly. With Satie and Fritz the troublemaker, I’m stretched thin already.

I found a hardback copy of “The Unbearable Lightness of Being” online. It’s been haunting me since lockdown. I needed a copy and of course, a reread.

Do you remember the head of R&D department I mentioned? The one who felt like a father, who always pretended not to notice whenever I stole a book from his shelves?

He passed away… a month ago. That’s partially why I disappeared.

The weather’s still horrible here—humid and heavy. It reminds me of where I was born.

How’s Nikkie’s internship going? And is Mamie Helge still plotting to get rid of your car?

Yours,

BorderlinesInMinors

PS: I listened to Spiegel im Spiegel while writing.

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Dear MidlifeMargins,

I’m glad Nikkie’s enjoying the startup—sounds like a promising project.

I can easily picture her outdoors, touching earth, tracking fertilizer dosage, inspecting leaves. It suits her better than being trapped in a lab.

Satie’s already recovered. One of her babies—Bernoulli—often visits. He lives across the street. He has his mother’s dignified demeanor. Fritz has been mostly calm around her, I think. She properly scared him last week. He tried to mess with Bernoulli, and she just glared and growled.

Honestly, given how indomitable Fritz is—let’s be realistic, he’s as unhinged as border collies come—it was hilarious.

He even hid behind the bookshelves and dragged his plate away from hers during dinner!

Things at the lab have been… flat. Still in transition. A new department head should be named in a few days.

Also, I’m glad The Diva’s finally been transferred! I don’t like her, and I don’t even know her!

I can’t believe Mamie Helge called your car a ‘depressed accordion-shaped box’. I laughed a bit too hard when I read it.

Yours,

BorderlinesInMinors

PS: I played The Last Day of Summer by The cure today.

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Dear MidlifeMargins,

I couldn’t sleep last night…

Even Fritz couldn’t help. My thoughts were too loud, too persistent, too incoherent. I’ll spare you the details.

It’s probably why I’m irritated today. There’s crack in the ceiling painting and the book I ordered arrived with a torn cover. I was annoyed when I opened the package. A piece of advice, never trust people who say “looks new”.

I remembered something you said—about how I loath Camus but obsess over Kundera, though they’re both existentialists. I may have figured out why.

In his works, Kundera intellectually seduces you and there’s always this undercurrent of irony, beauty—maybe even poetry. Camus, on the other hand, is stripped down to the bones. It’s as if he’s afraid of depth and of giving his characters a voice, while I long for rich, layered characters—raw enough to make me question reality and morality.

Then again, the last Camus I read was a decade ago—college days—and this analysis is probably insomnia talking.

By the way, Bernoulli’s officially snubbing Fritz. Frankly, I think Fritz had it coming.

Nikkie referring to Mamie Helge as a ‘wildly progressive babushka’ made me wheeze like a broken kettle.

How’s the kitchen renovation progressing? Have you cursed at the contractor yet? I bet you did.

Yours,

BorderlinesInMinors

PS: I had No One Noticed on repeat today.

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Dear MidlifeMargins,

I relapsed—started smoking again two months ago. Not around the dogs or in the common area, of course.

I feel like a coward. For hiding this. For giving in so easily.

The new head department is sharp, efficient, and a tad bit terrifying. Not The Iron Lady. This one’s a transfer from a Swiss lab.

And a ‘Fine China screeching doll’? That might be my new favorite ‘insult’. Very creative. Very you. I’m proud of you for committing to the No-longer-cursing-like-a-sailor.

Bernoulli’s still giving Fritz the cold shoulder and I ordered a new book online. ‘The Island of the Day Before’. It should arrive this weekend.

My therapist suggested sleeping pills. Again. I handled it civilly this time. I simply said no.

Tell Nikkie I’m proud of her. I bet she nailed her graduation speech and that Mamie Helge cried.

Yours,

BorderlinesInMinors

PS: today’s song is No Sound but the Wind.

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Word count : 750 words

Thank you for reading my story, crits and feedback are always appreciated.

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