death of a salesman

Dear Dad, I am writing this to you from an airplane 30,000 miles over the Atlantic Ocean. I’m on my way to London, England to gather some extremely important evidence for the new case that I’m working on. My wife Ellen is jealous because she did not get t come with me, but my client is paying for the entire trip, and I assume he would not relish buying three more tickets for Ellen …

…life as you didn’t feel that need to bolster me up, full of fake praise. Thank you dad, without you I couldn’t have done it. Love always, Bernard. P.S. – How has Linda been coping since Willie’s death? If you see her, tell her I said hello. I am going to try and reach Biff once I get back to New York. It’s a real shame when old friends drift apart.