|WET LETTER (standard:romance, 667 words)|
|Author: BENTLINK||Added: Mar 05 2012||Views/Reads: 1438/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A mis-delivery of a letter stirs up the life of a young bank teller.|
WET LETTER The wet letter she received was interspaced with the local supermarket's weekly advertisements and junk mail credit card offers. Both the address and return address appeared to have been written in water-soluble ink and were so badly blurred one could only guess at what the correct address had once been. Her first thought was to mark the letter with either “return to sender” or “delivery error” and drop it in the corner mailbox across the street from her little apartment. She held a pen and was ready to write on the envelope when it occurred to her she might be able to forward the letter to its intended address if she were to read the letter and discover more about the addressee. Feeling somewhat guilty she carefully steamed the envelop flap loose just as she had seen it done on one of the old “Murder She Wrote” episodes. Much to her disappointment the letter had only personal information and not the hoped for address or for that matter any clue as to the author or addressee. In addition because we were well into the fall season the letter had been floating around for a full six or seven months or it had been recently written down in earths other hemisphere. Whatever the case the letters content was seductive to her. She could picture herself being whisk away from her boring mundane life of an unmarried nine to five bank teller to a producing farm. Hey Aunt Rose Well it is spring again here on the island. As usual, Spring is ignoring all the damage old hateful Winter did to everyone and every thing. She has turned her back on all the ice-damaged trees and near dead hungry critters. Just like always, Spring is making promises about how things are going to go this year. Spring always makes promises that Summer no mater how long or grand will ever be able be come close to fulfilling. Oh, we will have a peach harvest and lush green grass for the cattle but then we always have that here on the island. No doubt, the blackberries, cherries, apples and grapes will just like every year come along in their turn. The mare had her spring foal and he seems just perfect. It is a wonder the warm feelings I always get when I see critter babies, those youngsters seem so cute. Even ugly things like possums have sweet little ones. The senior Mr. Hunter that has the little farm over on the lee side is again setting out on his tree stump soaking up spring's sunshine while his place falls down around his old ears. Might be he is okay with doing that because this could be his last spring or maybe next to last. I guess he is entitled to sit a spell being as he has worked hard on that place since he was a just a boy. We will grow, mow and harvest hay all summer. Its hot work getting the hay in but it feels good seeing the barn fill up and knowing it will feed all the stock this winter. It just feels so right the whole family out in the fields throwing that sundry hay onto the wagon. Lunch is so welcome and lord that ice water taste grand. I go to bed early and always sleep really soundly when we are making hay. Its hard meeting someone new out here but it does seem to me that spring had promised I would find a wife this year but did not make it happen, or maybe it was left for summer to take care of that as well. I hope everything is going good for you up where you are now. Please be sure to tell Uncle Ted we are all doing just fine. Love Always Sam PS If you know any women that want to get married and live on an island farm and make hay and babies send them around. Tweet
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