By Sarah Levesque (Rated G)
She was waiting for a letter. A specific letter. His letter. She did not know what it would say, of course, but she knew it would contain some anecdote to make her laugh, some odd suggestion or perhaps a joke to go along with the more serious subjects he would touch on. That’s how it was between them – serious and hilarious and serious again. So when she saw the postman walk down her drive as the bus pulled away from the corner, her nerves buzzed in anticipation. But the hour-long journey to the city had begun, and then there was her job, and the hour-long journey back. Ages until she could open that letter. She felt a mix of emotions – anticipation for the letter, but dread for the morning and afternoon that promised to drag by painfully. And they did. She could barely keep her mind on her work, staring fixedly out the tiny window she was fortunate enough to be able to see from across the room. Finally, she left the building as the sun went down. The bus came and she boarded it. She couldn’t keep still and jiggled her knee. As the bus turned the corner to her house, a smile spread across her face, and she was out of the bus before the doors finished opening. She rushed to the mailbox, retrieved the envelope and looked at it. It had the correct postmark and return address. She struggled to unlock her door quickly, then sank into her chair, tearing the envelope open. As she read the first words, she relaxed, unaware of the giddy smile on her face that made her cheeks blossom and her eyes shine brightly.