Archivist note: This post is from an older recovered archive.
==Letters from Babbage==
((Posted by Iniko on July 8, 2010))
Dearest Amanta, hello!
I have arrived safely in Babbage. What a wonderfully exciting trip! I know you have been many places and done many things, so please forgive your girl for chattering on about such mundane things, but they’re not mundane to me. I rode a train!
Miss Bianca and her uncle were there to meet me when the train stopped. He seems a most kind man. Her uncle, I mean. And the men here are so different! All I have seen of them, they have deferred to the women. Imagine it! You’d like it here.
Except, perhaps, for the fact that it is so much colder than the desert. Even when the sun is high, it’s cold. And there’s no sand at all that I have found. But the buildings, Amanta! Why, there’s a building here made entirely of glass! And the city hall building is mostly glass, from what I can tell. Mr. Melnik (he is a friend of Miss Bianca’s and was kind enough to give me a tour) assured me that the glass would not break. But glass always breaks eventually.
There is even a gigantic clockwork man! Mr. Melnik hinted that it might have been meant to come to life. I do hope he was jesting about that, though. It’s a rather frightening creation.
You should see the library here, Amanta. So many books! It’s so much larger than the library back home. And besides the library, they have several shops that sell books! Such a wealth of written word.
I have bought several ‘proper’ dresses with the money you sent with me, Amanta. Everyone says that I look lovely in them, but I feel rather foolish. So much fabric, and I do not like the shoes. But I fear walking around in my usual attire might be… unwelcome.
I shall wear my usual attire when I dance for Miss Bianca’s hostel, though, and damn what the people think. I cannot possibly dance in these fancy skirts on these fancy shoes. I’d trip and fall and break my neck!
Miss Bianca has mentioned another business idea she recently had, by the way. Telling you the details of it, however, must wait, for I do not wish to spill secrets to the young man writing down my every word for you. Let me just say this: it promises to be very profitable.
I miss the desert. I miss the sight of the Sultana’s palace. Most of all, Amanta, I miss you. But I am having a wonderful time, and I shall write again when I have the chance.
Always and forever yours,