Mid-January 1916

(Hello reader, it is Corina typing. I should not be transcribing Julius’s written abandoned diary, but I was curious, compelled and felt deserted. He left me and his dog, Charlie. I am even using his typewriter since he also left it behind. It was too heavy to carry in his rucksack as he disappeared under the cover of darkness.

I read his diary. That nice Scotsman, Lord Olivey, as his Denver Post editor called him, mailed it to me. I commented a bit on this unfortunate story about me, but not enough. One of my favorite American quips is “Everyone has two cents,” most have it at the cash register. It is the amount to send a one-ounce letter of plain speaking, and all people have it as an opinion. So, this is my two cents worth. I too am the mistress of my words and actions.

Do women please themselves? Of course, they do, some with other women and others like to ride horses. Every mother warned their daughters not to be too fast. There were consequences, and I ended up pregnant. I prayed to a loving God that my son would grow to be more like me than his father. My plan was to desperately woo Julius. My thought being, none would be the wiser, nor would I be the worst. British duty and honor fell across the road and we both stumbled. Folly endures as the chief characteristic of mankind. British men continue with a warped sense of patriotic duty and tens of thousands are killed in France. The women embrace the desire of entitlement and lament there is no one to dance with except old men. I was fortunate I met Julius in Steamboat Springs. He could have been in the senseless war.

I do still love and fondly remember him. As I gaze out my late January window, the deep snow glitters, the sun shines, and birds still sing. The trees stand tall, proudly bare in naked beauty. My life has changed.

My constantly inebriated, estranged husband, JJ, demonstrated the height of schadenfreude. Du Bois relating Napoleons’ axiom, “Never interfere with an enemy destroying himself,” was simply perfect. I received peace of mind with a restraining order served to JJ. Charlie hates him and persists as my daily loving protection. I will deal with my spouse as soon as I can buy his absence with a divorce.

More than a billion people in this world lived on December 24, 1915. Julius sliced time like sausage and smothered it with the daily condiments of life. Since Switzerland, I measure my time in seasons and now it moves slower and slower.

Granted, I encouraged him to leave. He said, “Is it I, not Gus who migrates to a warmer biome?”  Good heavens, who, besides Julius, would say that in a moment of crisis and remember to write it later? I forecasted this miserable time, and it has arrived. I truly miss him. It has been certainly very sad to type this story. The hazel flecks in my eyes again float in a pool of tears. He so sweetly could turn a phrase. CE)