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A few words from Umba...


My Dear Isabella,

To much silence is not good for me. Are you ok? p/s let me know i,m so worried.

Yours 4ever,

umba johnson.


...and a diatribe from Isabella.

Warning: The photo linked to is not pretty. War never is.

My Dear Umba,

You are a man of so few words! There was an occasion when you talked about marrying me. Do you still feel that way? You seem so remote and business like. Is there any passion in you, Umba?

At the moment I need someone who will reassure me that the world is not going completely loopy. The last few days I have been talking to lots of folk about the pending invasion of Iraq. I refuse to call it a war - it is no more a war than a gang mugging is a boxing match, don't you agree?

None of the politicians seem to care that thousands upon thousand of innocent Iraqis are going to die in the invasion. It is just so unjust I don't know what I can do; I'm so frustrated I ache. One of the speakers last night was a photographer, I've attached one of the photos he showed. None of the sanitised war in this photo, eh? Straight to the bone. Collateral damage, they call it. Bastards, I call them.

I'm sorry Umba, dear Umba. Please forgive me, but I don't know who else to talk to.

I do have a letter from your solicitor to answer after I finish here.

I could do with a good hug, Umba. Send me one.

Yours in despair,

Isabella.


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