The morning sun is round, yellow and bright,
As it chases away the dark o’ night. Look there!
What’s that? I see a sight!
A field mouse that gives me such a fright!
Perhaps your talent lies in playwriting…
ALWAYS UNSIGNED, always sharing nothing about their identities. Only the magic created by the notes, the slow revelation of their deepest fears and desires…sharing those secrets that they would never dare to reveal to anyone else.
My heart longs to run away from this place. Not that this place is wrong necessarily—but to see the world, to feel the rush of adventure that pumps the blood through a person’s veins and makes her feel truly alive. I want to taste new foods, meet new people, see new places I have only read about in books…
And I long to be able to sit still. My body seems to be in perpetual motion, never content unless I am moving, building, doing…
If only we could switch places. I would take your motion, and you could stay here, connected to Little London, with its villagers and fields, with its lazy river that never wants to go anywhere faster than a slow ramble. Every day feels as if life is passing by, yet I cannot do anything to stop it.
It is the darkness of night that bothers me, when I am unable to sleep and the rest of the house is quiet and still around me. Thoughts come then that tell me that I am a fraud, that I am sleeping in a bed that belongs to another man, that my life is not this existence…
My father is dying, and there is little anyone can do to help him. He worries about what will become of me. I will be fine. I am strong and determined, capable of making my own way. I share this not to ask for help or pity, but because sharing it makes it real. If I tell you, putting voice to it within these letters, then I must believe it myself.
MORE LETTERS, more sharing of heart-felt desires and secrets, until…
Should we meet?
CORA STOOD in the lane and bit her bottom lip. Another pinned letter awaited her at the tree.
A nagging curiosity had made her return to the lane the day after she’d found the ring, to see if anyone had claimed it, only to find a reply.
Of course, she’d responded to that note. How could she not, when she read the depth of emotion it conveyed? The correspondence had simply gathered speed from there, with notes coming every day and bringing new secrets, dreams, and confessions.
She didn’t dare reveal her name nor ask for his, although she’d garnered bits of information about him through the personal details he’d shared. Such as that he was a him in the first place. New to the area. From honest, hard-working stock who appreciated a job well-done and cared about his family and friends, so not at all like that pompous Monmouth. Yet he was also a well-educated man of self-reflection. She’d taken more pleasure in those little notes than she’d dare admit and found herself looking forward to her walk so she could claim the latest missive in their surprising exchange. Each one was a treasure, making her laugh at something witty he’d shared, see the world in a new way, commiserate, or feel a pang of sympathy.
Until the note from two days ago. Which simply surprised the daylights out of her.
He wanted to meet her in person. No—not anything that certain. Not even a suggestion, really. Just simply pondering if they should…yet it stunned the breath from her.
