Dear Mr. Whoever,
As you can see I am in a bit of tight spot; so excuse my informality. My story with Miss Beauty is not a twice-told tale and I don't like it to be so. Though it is an uphill task, I must explain things to you for the sake of truth. I've been thinking about the issue for a quite long time now. You have come up sprinkling upon the flame with your question which I hope it's innocent. I'm completely aware of the bewilderment you endure because this relationship is abnormal and harmful to you... Miss Beauty has nothing of lovable according to many of my friends but love, as you may probably know, is blind. Besides, Love is not math. When in love, One and One never make Two. Love is illogical. It has that power as to make things seem what they aren't in reality. It is a clumsy medium to measure feelings and emotions. I'll spell it out though; it is too difficult to make easy. I love her and she loves me. Why she loves me? Only God wot! But the reasons why I love her are what I'll manage to clarify in this "masterpiece" letter.
Miss Beauty, sir, is the sort of person that people choose to keep awake all night-long just to have the opportunity to think of her. Where from shall I begin??? Let's start with her body. She is as fat as a seven-year-old pig; yet the pig is much less fat than she is. Her head is a microcosm where the nose stands like the pointer of a huge colossal compass pointing South like droughts. Her cheeks are as vast and dry as the widest worst desert you've ever imagined crossing alone in the summer at noon. Her eyes, on the other hand, are like two tiny snails peeping out of their shells. Her eyebrows, like tombstones, give you the impression that the whole face is an old graveyard. Moreover, her mouth, bending a little bit towards the left side of her face, looks like a Galaxy which is preparing to quit its orbit. And her lips full of cracks are two crashing mountains that, when you approach them, you feel there is an earthquake that is likely to act. Her nostrils are like Plato's cave where from a thick hot air blows incessantly. Her chin, contrary to her nose, points north as if eager to freeze. Her ears are another metaphysical element: Once, one of my close friends comments saying that her ears look like the rear tractor wheels but I think he comes too short. As for me, her ears are rather like mushrooms as large as sky dishes. This description, I think, is more romantic. When she smiles! Oh! When she smiles! Imagine, with all the particular characteristics shown above, in mind, what sort of smile it would be like?! Chernobyl? A volcano eruption? Or Negara falls? No, no. Not at all! When she smiles, the sun sets at once and the world darkens; and you feel that it is almost an apocalyptic day. When she smiles...and -by the way she rarely smiles- her teeth view sends you millions of years back to the Big Bang. Her hair, my dear, is like an equatorial bush where all sorts of creatures seem to enjoy living. One day two apes jumped out of it; and it was really a fertile field of study and scientific researches for experts in Botanic and zoologists. As for her breast, it's like a rotten-wood-balcony of an old house from the Victorian age. Her arms are like two dead crocodiles and her hands two out-of-order bulldozers. Her feet are two ships unlikely to sink whatever hurricanes may blow them. And let's not forget her legs which look like two pillars belonging to the Pharaoh era...
All in all, I admit that if one looked at her, he would be dealing with a lot of scientific branches such as astronomy, biology, zoology and so on. Her face is a University in the lido. In a word I'm unable to depict every single detail concerning her body because, actually, I'm not a scholar. So the body features apart, Miss Beauty has peculiar habits. First, she never has breakfast at home because it is impossible to prepare it indoors. She usually goes to the petrol station where she has three gallons of gasoline, seven sandwiches of track-tyres and a small bucketful of acid. She sometimes finishes her breakfast just to start lunch. Her lunch meal is a mixture of iron tools and some crumbles of steel. She often prefers to take some zinc-sauce with it. She said that wood, glass and plastic materials taste more delicious. Her supper meal eventually is something like a gallon of tar added to it a lorry-rim or a bicycle for dessert. She doesn't like to eat much at night because she is on diet. Second, I should mention that she usually smokes gas but not any gas. On this point she is very strict. She never smokes but propane-gas (C3H8). One day while we were taking a walk in the streets, she suddenly felt hungry! You know what she did?! She ate a car and exclaimed in whisper,
- "I don't know what's wrong with my appetite. I don't eat enough these days!"
It is true that I love her but love is too weak as expression to depict my feelings towards her. Don't you see that a beautiful girl... Sorry, monster like this is rare or not found at all. Many people envy me and I think that you do, too. So I hope that you'll meet one like her one day; and I'll be the first to congratulate you! Until then, I wish I had answered your question fully and I wish you had been satisfied otherwise I'll be disappointed.
I'm looking forward to hearing from you soon.
P.S. If it happens that you didn't find your car one day, check, perhaps it would be inside Miss Beauty's belly. It is like a landfill.
When music is not an art!