Message in a Bottle

April 14, 1912
R.M.S. Titanic

Dear Liam,

I cannot sleep so I have decided to write to you. This may seem a frivolous use of paper, ink and lamp oil, but I can’t stop thinking about you. Have you finished the repairs to our new place? How I love the word “our”, it sends happy shivers right down to my toes. I can’t wait to see you and your dear face again.

It is very dull here. Mostly we daydream and watch over the children. I met a girl close to my age who intends to become a nun and another who, with her friends, wants to find a position as a housekeeper. I hope that I can stay in touch with them later; it will be nice to have friends in a strange country.

The Titanic is so huge, but I have only seen a fraction of it. Sometimes we talk about what we think the rest of it looks like. We imagine the ballrooms and the dresses the grand ladies wear, and then we picture ourselves among them.

When I am not with the others, I am daydreaming about you. I know it is terribly improper and I would not be writing it if I ever thought you would read it, but sometimes I dream of waking up to see your face inches from mine. In my dream, I just lie there and watch you until I catch a glimpse of those beautiful brown eyes and you smile at me before you are quite awake.

I am so excited to see New York. As a girl who has never gone as far as Dublin before, it seems like such a grand adventure. I took the train for the first time to get to Southampton and I nearly fainted when I saw the ship. I can just see your face when I steam into harbor on this monster of a boat. Sometimes I feel as if I have become a sister of Jonah, swallowed by a whale.

(Large inkblot)

Oh dear, a sudden jolt has caused me to spill ink all over. I had best close this letter before I waste any more. My every thought is with you, mo chroi.

All my love,
Bridget





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