A woman arrives, opens a mailbox, and disappointedly finds it empty. A man arrives.
Man – No mail today?
Woman – A few years ago, I still received the occasional wedding invitation or so. But gradually, nothing. I feel like I’m the only survivor of my generation.
Man – If I die before you, I promise to send you a funeral invitation.
Woman – That’s kind of you. I still go down every morning to check if I have any mail. It gives me a bit of exercise.
The man opens his mailbox overflowing with letters.
Man – I would give you some of mine, but they are mainly hate mail.
Woman – Hate mail? Oh yes… Your wife left you, right?
Man – I think she didn’t handle the career change too well. But it’s not her who’s sending me all these letters, you know.
Woman – You’re not a French teacher anymore?
Man – I resigned a few months ago. Now I work in a horse butchery.
Woman – That must be quite a change.
Man – It’s messier.
Woman – Oh yes, quite a career change.
Man – Since I was a little kid, I always wanted to work with meat. Some dream of becoming firefighters; I dreamed of becoming a butcher.
Woman – There’s room for everyone in this world, isn’t there?
Man – Both my parents were philosophy professors. Needless to say, they weren’t too thrilled about this plan. I think they would have preferred if I had told them I was gay and wanted to be an actor. So, I first studied literature to please them, married a Latin professor. But in the end, passion won out. I took evening classes, got my certification, incidentally got divorced, and here I am, finally a butcher!
Woman – Butchery is an honourable profession. But why horses?
Man – I think cows and calves would have reminded me too much of my old teaching job.
Woman – I understand… But all these hate letters? I imagine it’s not the horses writing to complain…
Man – Oh, that? Actually, it has nothing to do with my new profession. These are my former students who keep writing to me. I stopped in June, and they don’t know yet that I resigned.
Woman – And you read all of them?
Man – Do you think so! If only they were well-written. But the vocabulary is poor, the syntax is deplorable, and it’s full of spelling mistakes. Here, let me open one at random…
He opens an envelope and reads.
Man – Screw your mother, you dumbass, I’ll catch you, I’ll kill you… I told you…
Woman – You know what? They didn’t deserve you.
Man – I’ll put these directly in recycling.
Woman – In that case, give them to me. It will keep me occupied.
Man – If you insist… (He hands her the stack of letters which she takes.) But I warned you…
Woman – If I find one that is more interesting than the others from a literary point of view, I’ll set it aside for you.
Man – Perfect! And I’ll set aside a little horse steak for lunch! It’s excellent for your health, you’ll see. Horse meat is much leaner than beef, and it’s full of iron.
Woman – Iron? Not horseshoe iron, I hope.
Man – Ah, don’t forget that a horseshoe brings good luck! Well then, have a good day! Meat doesn’t wait!
Woman – Thank you, have a good day too!
He leaves. She looks at the stack of letters.
Woman – Let’s see…
She also walks away, reading the first letter she has just opened.
Black.

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A sketch from the collection Open Letters
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L’article Insult Letters est apparu en premier sur La Sketchothèque.