Dear Borisky,

I hope this finds you in cheerful spirits in a long tour.

I wrote to you about my promotion. Now I am writing about my parents and my wife. When I came home that day, my mother served me not the usual two courses at dinner, but four. She offered me tea in the evening with jam and white bread. We drank chocolate when some guests came. When I asked the reason of that and pointed out that my salary was raised only a trifle, she retorted saying that money was there to be spent. Surprisingly, my father ordered a fur coat, bought a new cap, took a mineral-water cure and began to eat grapes in winter.

In the party, which I hosted, my wife threatened to leave me. This was when she heard the guests whispering that I was a thief. She, in dazzling attire, flashed the diamonds, which had made me take money from the cash box.


I hope you, at least, realize how much I have been exploited because of my naivety and innocence. Even my own kith and kin have not spared me. Don’t you feel that this is a nasty world?

Yours affectionately,