The Letter

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: February 13, 2020

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Submitted: February 13, 2020

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A A A


I sat at the kitchen table and tapped my pen against its wood. My wife was holding our youngest son who was crying in her arms. He wasn't the only one upset about moving to this apartment. Going from grasslands to sky scrapers was a whole new experience. But it didn't beat what was scattered on the table in front of me.

"Are you going to meet with this woman, honey?" my wife managed to ask over the sound of our crying son. She gave him a piece of toast and it seemed to calm him down. 

"I don't know. I wrote a letter the other day to ask if we could meet. I'm going to send it today," I said to her, then took a sip of my coffee. 

"I wonder who he was to her? Oh, maybe he was a dear friend or an old lover?" my wife guessed.

"Maybe." I looked down at my watch and realized the time. "I've got to go if I want to get this out to her soon. I'll see you tonight, dear!" I yelled and opened the door to leave our shabby little apartment. 

For the past month, letters from a woman named Beth have been arriving at our apartment. We were told from the apartment building manager that there was an old man who lived in our place before us and passed away recently. I managed to find a letter he wrote to Beth, still sealed, in his closet. I didn't know their relationship, but whatever he wrote on there, she needed to read it.

I dropped the letter I wrote about asking to meet at the post office and went to work for the rest of the day.

It was a good thing mail got to people quicker than it did when I was a young boy. I received a letter from Beth in two days. She told me she would like to meet at the train station the next day, for she lived outside the city. I told my wife everything and she had her sister watch our children as we ventured to the train station early in the morning the next day.

As we sat on a bench in the station, I could feel my wife’s hands holding mine, and the letter from our apartment’s old tenant sat in the pocket of my suit.

A train finally pulled into the station and that was my cue to stand. I finally spotted an older woman in the crowd, and I knew she was Beth. 

My wife nodded her head and waited at the bench as I walked up to the old woman who was looking around the room, possibly for me.

“Hello, ma’am, is your name Beth by chance?” I asked her.

“Yes. Are you the young man I sent my letters to by accident?” she laughed.

“Not on accident, I’m afraid. I have something for you.”

I handed her the letter. 


© Copyright 2020 emkat59. All rights reserved.

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