Featured Items: C L A Vv. Light Studio Gacha (The Epiphany)
I get this feeling in my chest when I see that you’ve sent me a letter.
You called them ‘Letters to You’, when you refer to them. But really, they aren’t just paper, ink, and a few scribbles of thought. They are a part of what you are, shared with me. Written to me.
I hate to say it, but I do get nervous. I don’t know that I actually tremble. Maybe its not nervous that I get, actually, Just excited. Yes, that’s it. Excited.
Because I don’t know what way it will be that you express yourself. Will it be a song? A poem? A story? Just you rambling on, in a stream of consciousness?
The ways your mind works has always baffled and fascinated me. It’s amazing, thrilling, and wonderful in what you do. It’s what makes me laugh, and smirk, blush and hide my eyes at times, especially when you stray into .. how shall I call it.. naughty topics.
I can’t wait to get letters from you.
Each day, at the time the mail-carrier comes by my neighborhood, I find myself sitting in the window chair, glancing out, waiting to see if something has come from you. I find that when the answer is no, my day is a little less bright for a little while.
But then, I go to my studio, open my shoe box, and draw out the bundle of your letters. I have them wrapped together in string. And then I open them, one by one.
Often, I lay on the studio floor, as I read them. It doesn’t matter how many times I re-read them, I always seem to find something in them that I didn’t realize or notice before. So, in a way, each time, it’s almost like the first time.
Your scent is on the paper, and I know your fingers touched and folded each part. Your lips touched the lip of the envelope. Really, it’s your mind that touches the paper. Or perhaps something more.
I hold them to my chest, and I smile, and I lay back.. And I day-dream of being with you again.
And then there’s a knock at the door.
I frown. Maybe they’ll go away.
The knock is there again. Persistent!
So I stand up, and I shuffle, barefoot and shirtless to the door, my glasses perched on the end of my nose, my long brown hair draped over my shoulders – I look a state. Whoever it is, it had better be important!
Then I open the door, and it’s Bill, the mail carrier. He looks like I took too long, as he is turning his back, but he stops and glances over his shoulder. I blink at him and frown, “Yeah, Bill? What is it?”
Bill smiles at me and holds out a bundle of letters. “Hi Ral! Well, I know how much you love getting your mail. The new guy in sorting got these out of sequence for my delivery. Soooo.. I found them and thought.. Instead of waiting for tomorrow I thought I’d drop them by at the end of my route.. Sorry for the delay.. “
I swallow and glance down at his hand, which holds a bundle of letters. Bill is smiling at me, and I’m just standing there like a post for a moment, then my eyes almost tear up a little, as I take the bundle in from his hands. I smile at him. Impulsively, I reach out and hug the tall, gangly letter-carrier, and he blushes a bit, and pats my back awkwardly.
“Oh my,” Bill says, and he tries to straighten himself up when I let him go, giving a tug on the postal service ball cap he’s wearing. I almost knocked it off.
“Thank you, Bill. You’re the best.” I say that in a soft and smile-filled voice.
And Bill nods back to me, and chucks me in the shoulder. A usual thing some guys do that don’t know what to do with emotions. But he’s a sweetheart, and means well. “Any time, Ral. Anytime. Have a nice day.”
With that, I close the door, as Bill turns to leave, and I race back to the studio and go down on my knees.
I sort through the bundle.. Payment due, invoice, junk mail…AH!!!
And there it is – your handwriting – your special envelopes. I can smell your scent on it.
I tear it open, and I smile.
Letters from you .. they always do that.
Story by: Dehrynn Shepherd
Hair- Tableau Vivant \\ Glenn (Store)
Room & all furniture- C L A Vv. Light Studio Gacha (The Epiphany)