January 16, 1882
Dear Friend,
My headaches have come back.
It’s been so long that I thought this life was behind me. But here it is. A construction zone in my frontal lobe… Proceed with caution. Ha! If only. Time to resurrect my old tools, like I use anything but my hands anyway… how they itch to do their job.
My headache makes it hard to write. Each pounding interval a crack of thunder from Zeus himself. I only hope Zeus knows enough to leave before my headache becomes too unbearable to restrain. The time is soon, I must write with due haste, due haste. Oh! My manners, how is Loretta doing? I can be so selfish at times, thinking only of the drums beating in my head. Oh, but how it is hard to concentrate. Truly, dear friend, forgive me. I can hardly think straight, my mind is running circles. How to concentrate, how to concentrate!? Agghh! The pain, it’s becoming intolerable, I must… I must… KILL! No. Before I lose my wits, dear friend, I must tell you this:
Run.
