Austentatious, by Lucien Romano

My dearest sister Lily, it is with dejection that I must apprise you of the results from the succession of investigations I underwent at the psychiatric hospital, which my physician has just presented. I regret that the diagnosis has confirmed our most calamitous apprehensions. My predilection for the verbal stylings of a nineteenth century female novelist have inexplicably transmogrified into an irresistible compulsion, such that I am incapable of communicating even the most elementary information in a succinct and concise manner. The only redeeming quality in this otherwise dreadful predicament is that I have not succumbed to Tourette’s, but Austentation.