Ficly

Letters

Everything is cloudy.

I guess it’s possible for someone to set things up so that they keep happening even after they are gone; to haunt you.

Or it could be coincidences.

Still, I can’t decide if I am reading too much into these ‘coincidences’ or if they mean something.

The postman startled me out of reverie, banging the lid shut on my mailbox. I glared at his disappearing shadow, the harbinger of terror. I slowly approached the door.

Shouldn’t appear too eager; make it look casual.

I turned the knob. The day outside was perfect, clear, sunny, slight breeze – deceptive day.

I grabbed the stack of envelopes in the box with my eyes averted. Deep breath, peek The scented pink envelope was there. Crap. Exhale

I wanted to throw it, scream, rip it, burn it. But I knew I had to read it.

Sunshine or Rain, you don’t know my pain. But you will.

I shut the door, leaned against it, sobbed. Isn’t it bad enough that you are gone?! I haven’t slept, I keep crying, what other pain can you mean?!

View this story's 2 comments.