Prose: Regrets
Oct. 27th, 2016 05:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
delphinewhipple"I regret to inform you that I will not be able to accept your generous offer of a position."
Delphine's pen pauses, her eyes flicking again to the two letters unfolded on her desk. The letterhead of for the respectable shop in Prescot was noticeably thicker and whiter than the other. It might be the most formal, high quality letter she has ever received. The position offered within was a good job, a respectable company, close to her family. She could stay here in Childwall with them. She could stay close to Joseph and Gertie and their kids, and visit them often in Liverpool.
"I was deeply honored to be considered, but I have, since receiving your letter responding to my inquiry, accepted another position."
The other letter is on a slippery grey paper, with crabbed handwriting and no letterhead at all - just a hand written address and business name scrawled across the top: Lentry's Optics of London.
Delphine had not asked Joseph to aid her in looking for employment - her sister's family had already helped her so much that she could not possibly prevail upon them more. When he showed her the advertisement, and then produced the response letter, explaining that he had applied on her behalf with a recommendation from himself-- well, she hadn't known what to think at all.
"It would be wrong to dishonor the promise I have already given, so it with a heavy heart that I cannot fulfill the position you so kindly offer to me."
London was impossible. Her father often read fantastical headlines about the fallen city, his warning tone laced with sheer incredulity: this was not a place for reasonable, young people, not a place for his girls, and he could not imagine who would want to be there. What had Joseph been thinking when he had responded to the newspaper for her?
But once implanted in her mind, Delphine couldn't stop thinking about the fallen city and all of its mystery.
Letter from London in hand, her steps on the stairs felt too heavy, too obvious, as she escaped upstairs and secluded herself in her room. Surely her father would know that there was something afoot when she could barely eat at dinner. Her head felt like it might spin off her neck entirely at the offer of employment, complimenting her on the brilliant recommendation letter from her brother-in-law.
Behind her now, her sister Claire slept, having stolen the pillow that was now free from Delphine's tossing skull. The Prescot position was more than she could have hoped for, a young woman in an unconventional area of work.
And yet, the memory of the excitement in Joseph's eyes left a stain of discontent inside her as she pieced together the life that would become hers with the Prescot position; London, though, had no pieces at all. She could not even imagine her life in the famed city...which is why she had to go.
"I have heard nothing but accolades for your business, and I trust that you will fill the position soon with someone far more talented than I.
Kindest regards,
Miss Delphine Whipple"
Delphine's pen pauses, her eyes flicking again to the two letters unfolded on her desk. The letterhead of for the respectable shop in Prescot was noticeably thicker and whiter than the other. It might be the most formal, high quality letter she has ever received. The position offered within was a good job, a respectable company, close to her family. She could stay here in Childwall with them. She could stay close to Joseph and Gertie and their kids, and visit them often in Liverpool.
"I was deeply honored to be considered, but I have, since receiving your letter responding to my inquiry, accepted another position."
The other letter is on a slippery grey paper, with crabbed handwriting and no letterhead at all - just a hand written address and business name scrawled across the top: Lentry's Optics of London.
Delphine had not asked Joseph to aid her in looking for employment - her sister's family had already helped her so much that she could not possibly prevail upon them more. When he showed her the advertisement, and then produced the response letter, explaining that he had applied on her behalf with a recommendation from himself-- well, she hadn't known what to think at all.
"It would be wrong to dishonor the promise I have already given, so it with a heavy heart that I cannot fulfill the position you so kindly offer to me."
London was impossible. Her father often read fantastical headlines about the fallen city, his warning tone laced with sheer incredulity: this was not a place for reasonable, young people, not a place for his girls, and he could not imagine who would want to be there. What had Joseph been thinking when he had responded to the newspaper for her?
But once implanted in her mind, Delphine couldn't stop thinking about the fallen city and all of its mystery.
Letter from London in hand, her steps on the stairs felt too heavy, too obvious, as she escaped upstairs and secluded herself in her room. Surely her father would know that there was something afoot when she could barely eat at dinner. Her head felt like it might spin off her neck entirely at the offer of employment, complimenting her on the brilliant recommendation letter from her brother-in-law.
Behind her now, her sister Claire slept, having stolen the pillow that was now free from Delphine's tossing skull. The Prescot position was more than she could have hoped for, a young woman in an unconventional area of work.
And yet, the memory of the excitement in Joseph's eyes left a stain of discontent inside her as she pieced together the life that would become hers with the Prescot position; London, though, had no pieces at all. She could not even imagine her life in the famed city...which is why she had to go.
"I have heard nothing but accolades for your business, and I trust that you will fill the position soon with someone far more talented than I.
Kindest regards,
Miss Delphine Whipple"
