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WET LETTER (standard:romance, 667 words)
Author: BENTLINKAdded: Mar 05 2012Views/Reads: 1507/0Story 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. 


   


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