Madam, in 2010 I had written to you, admittedly without putting much effort in trying to get that letter to reach you.
That was, Madam, because I did not know your address.
I was not, however, the first in that kind of situation. Robert Escarpit, in his times, and for words addressed to God and then to the Devil, had figured that, one way or another, the intended recipients would eventually learn of them, and that he just had, to make it easier, to publish them in the form of open letters.
I had thus followed his example, adapting them to the means at hand, and published online a letter to you, in which I thanked you for presents you had just given me.
Incautiously, I had finished that letter thus:
Simply said, if your business brings you across my path again, don’t hesitate to shuffle it a bit; I promise, Madam, that I will always take it, if not with a smile, at least goodhearted.
Madam, I have received your reply in the first days of May 2026, almost exactly sixteen years after I wrote to you.
Maybe you have, like me, a peculiar sense of humour, and this erysipelas which you gifted me was a way, for you, to pull my leg more literally than the idiom asks for.
Anyway: an erysipelas can be cured, and the payoff of you little prank isn’t much of a strain on me.
All the more when one considers that, on this occasion, I was diagnosed, without any chronic or acute symptom, a dubious coronary artery, then given one “simple” angioplasty and two “common” stents which ensured it would not trick me by surprise in the future.
I do recognize your humour there, Madam: you accepted my invitation, and then you left my heart, literally, better than it was before your visit.
I did not recognize you this time; I could only try in retrospect, and unsuccessfully – therefore I will not attempt it.
Madam, I’ve learned my lesson. I thank you with all my… heart… for this new present you gave me. But you will understand, I hope, that I shall not extend another invitation, and that, with the greatest care, I will just tell you:
Till we meet again.
Respectfully as ever,
Albert.