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The Letter, (Not following the challenge theme)

Many years ago some optimistic spider had built a web inside that drawer. I brushed aside the web and examined the envelope. It was yellow with age and made of parchment. The envelope was addressed in a flowing and neat script that kids today simply aren’t taught. The ink was not longer black but had turned slightly brown.

For my one true love,” it read.

I turned the envelope over and carefully opened the flap that sealed the contents. I drew the pages out and saw that same delicate writing as on the envelope.

June 18th, 1888

My Darling Love,

I know that it must seem that I am a foolish young woman, writing to a man I have yet to meet. Yet I am drawn to put pen to paper and open my heart to you. Please don’t think of me as if I write to an imaginary friend, nor as a flighty girl in the first bloom of infatuation. I write to you, not yet knowing your name, but knowing that we will share a love that will bind us to each other. How I long for you. To see you, to greet you, to share your life.

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