A letter sent to me reads:
Last week [see here] you invited writers to take up the challenge of appropriating a title from Boris Yasmilye and an idea from Luigi Narsceni and writing a book of their own. Once I have swallowed this apple, I fully intend to take up that challenge. I will be taking from Yashmilye the title ‘The Gardener’s Dilemma’ and from Narsceni the idea of the man who fled to Africa to live with the giraffes. I fully expect the resulting book to be a masterpiece of our, and all, times.
What can I say? Obviously, I await the book in question with a level of anticipation otherwise reserved for academic studies of infant suicide during the Regency period. I must admit a little concern, however, regarding the sanity of the correspondent. One really must be cautious when it comes to people who write letters with portions of apple lodged within their mouths. They so often turn out to be unhinged lunatics. Dear Constance, I do hope that I am mistaken…