Dear Papa,

(This is a sequel to the fiction I wrote recently titled: "Our Wills are Unbreakable". This one, however, it written from England's perspective...)

Rocheller, Kent, England

August 17th, 1776 A.D.

Dear Brother,     

Lexington, Massachusetts

June 20th, 1775

Dear Cousin,     

     As you well know, I am employed at a printing press, and I would like to relate to you what exactly we have been printing in lieu of our regular Lexington, Massachusetts news. For, our ink has taken form in our paper in a most ‘revolutionary’ way, and our language, you may say, has taken quite a ‘treason-like’ turn.     

"I've had it with King George! Congress is right! No taxation without representation!" shouted the young man standing on the table. The small Massachusetts town's tavern in which he was speaking was packed full with patriotic men who came here every night to listen to the fiery fellow. Suddenly the speaker's flow of accusations stopped, and all eyes turned towards the door. Standing there was a battered and weary redcoat, looking frightfully at the accusing eyes in front of him.