The 19th Letter of Henry Adam Wood

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Albert Wiggin,


You may not have heard yet, but I am mortally ill.  My physicians, as underwhelmingly educated as they may be, have advised me to write letters to make amends.  Though they have fumbled around with my well-being, I fear even they could not misinterpret the signals of my deteriorating health.


You are 19.  I shall explain.


Do you remember the evening I first laid eyes on Grenedine?  Your sister was so embellishingly divine.  Golden locks of hair, strawberry red lips, and skin made of rich cream.  It is no secret she and I have shared a number of evenings.  However, were it not for her on that inaugrual encounter, you might never have needed money from me to save your bank.


We were at the tables.  The game was progressing as expected.  I was keeping count accurately, but I contend no one could have counted on Grenedine's striking demeanor towards my penchant for casual encounters.  I am not saying it was entirely her fault, but I would never have played the card in my sleeve had I been watching the table more intently.


As a result, I play a 20.  You hit for a 19, and the dealer draws for 20.  I push.  You lose.


Do you see?  Your 19 sealed your fate.


Most would declare my actions to be those of a cheating nature.  I contend that my counting has helped guide the actions of many players at many tables.  Unfortunately for you, Albert, my pinnacle performance did not come at the table that night, but rather under it.  Grenedine can attest, I assure you.


While I am not a man of an assumptory position, I do have exquisitly keen instincts.  And I suspect you would have beaten the house had your sister not made such an ordeal of my stature.  Please do not misunderstand that to be a complaint.  Grenedine made sure to cover my losses.


I am simply pointing out the irony which surrounds your lifelong struggle to forget that fateful night.


It is no secret that your bank was suffering from losses in the rails.  Your investors wanted their money - and rightfully so.  Dreadful economic times our great society faced.  You took what little was left in reserve to play at the tables.  And on that night, I witnessed the last of your investors' equities dissappear.


To this day, you battle me on the sanctity of your dear, innocent Grenedine.  To this day I hold that she cost you more than you realize.  I do apologize.


 


Deepest regards,


Henry Adam Wood


 


Postscript


I do trust you will continue to make payments until your loan is satisfied.  Should you fail to comply, I have instructed my attorney to relinquish assets from your investors directly until payment with interest is collected.

Created: Mar 12, 2014

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