The Gundella Letters #43

I call myself the human black cat because not only do I have bad luck but also 9 lives. You might say, "Hey look, you're a bastard and it's all karma." and you might not be wrong. There's also the distinct possibility that somebody or three has hexed me and that's completely fine by me because as much as I like peace, adversity allows for gallows humor. 

Anyway, in letter #43 to Gundella from the Eastern Michigan archives of the Marcello Truzzi papers comes this missive from a lady named Jean? Whatever her name was she needed a candle, a planchette, spelling lessons and the dire time that Gundella was sorely lacking in 1970 to give this woman prompt and proper attention. For she, Jean, was convinced that an Italian immigrant who she had rented from placed a curse on her when she moved out because that's just what this woman did according to her. 

I'd love to get a hold of one of Gundella's $3 planchettes and contact Jean, the Italian foreigner, Gundella and perhaps the Devil himself and ask what his take on global warming is because Hell is April in Detroit with no chance for redemption until well into May, six months after she hath frozen over.