‘soon’ is its own sentence
Ever since our return from St. Petersburg I’ve been thinking about the way that city is so young, but has enormous history and cultural value, and I don’t really understand how it all fits into those measly three centuries.
I wonder how it felt to be living in one of the great cities of the world when they were only just built. Imagine all those letters on stone tablets, parchment, and birch barks people sent their friends in the ‘cool’ metropolises (shouldn’t it be ‘metropoli’?):
If you still think your Grandpa was wrong when he decided not to leave Egypt, think again. So you’ll probably marry a shikse. But at least you don’t have to spend day and night lugging stones in Jerusalem. They tell us this will be a city of gold, and bronze, and light. Yeah, right.
I wish yov covld come visit me here. It’s no Rome, obviovsly, bvt Paris has a certain provincial charm. The bagvettes are top notch! I wish there was something cvltvral to do here. Anything, really.
Love yov as always, send books.
I am doinge fairly well in Londoun. It’s quite nice here, but those laundry-women everyone keeps talkinge about knowe no newe songs and keep singinge all the same crappe. Sir Tymberlake is so annoyinge.
Thou art myn fairest love, as ever.
Moscow is treating me fine, except it has burned down again. Please tell Mom that I’m out of clean socks.
Ahhh, those were the days. Now all these cities are so intimidating, when every other building is a museum. But there were times they were all just not Constantinople. It’s strangely pleasing to think about that.