The letter looked like just another piece of litter until I picked it up. The name on the front was written beautifully though smudges by the dampness of the ground. But the name was meaningless to me. Looking for clues I read the letter.
Simple, beautiful and heart felt. The letter was apology, and plea. The letter told of a broken marriage, a love pushed too far, of ties that should bind stretched till they snapped.
I didn’t know who had written it, but the desperation touched me. I need to get this letter to the owner, for better or worse.
That was then. I did find the author. They reclaimed the letter, with a heavy heart. As I understand it, the recipient had thrown the letter away. It hadn’t penetrated her heart in the way it had touched mine. Too much anger and scar tissue.
I wonder where they are now?