Dear aunt Sylvia !

İ write you this letter in bewilderment. You told me, sweet auntie, that İ could always turn to you when İ was in trouble because as you said, life has its ups and downs.
When İ met this pleasant American gentleman, it was a dream come true. Like "Alice in Wonderland" you read to me when İ was little. He brought me flowers and offered me things that İ had always dreamt of having when İ pressed my nose against the smart windows in Piccadilly.
The melliflous words he whispered into my ears. İ was so happy. We lived in a whirl of pleasures, and it captured me. But now, all we do is look at things and try new drinks, and İ am unhappy because İ am pregnant, and he wants me to cut it out.
The mood has changed. He talks beside me when İ say bright things like "the hills look like white elephants". İ likened the hills with white elephants because they were hazy-blue and because white elephants, you once told me, can turn out to be a burden instead of carrying fortune.
What it is that burdens me? Can İ believe him when he says that everything will be as before, it is just to let the air in, he says. One moment İ tell myself he is right ... everything will be fine ... the next moment İ get the jitters when he says that everything will be fine, and İ think he is only talking nonsense.
Oh, there he comes, the train has arrived, and we are whirling on ...
Laura