The Letter

All Caitlin wanted was to go to bed and put the tiresome day out of her memory. Passing the study on the way upstairs she remembered the mail having arrived in the morning just as she was heading out.

She hesitated awhile. Surely, whatever it is, the bills could wait over night. Yet, she retraced her steps and entered the study. “I’ll just browse through it,” she thought.

The mail was on the desk. It was as she thought. Bills and pleas for aid. She would see to them in the morning. Suddenly her hand, flipping through the envelopes, stopped.

She set the candle she was holding in her hand on the desk. With a trembling hand she slowly lit another one. She lowered herself into the leather seat that still smelled of him.

Firstly, she carefully read his writing on the envelope. It was dated more than two months ago. A lot could have happened since then.

Finally, she opened the letter and leaned over it.

It read:

               Dearest Caitlin,

How are you doing? How is everybody on Clarefield? I have my absolute confidence in you; therefore I am certain you are running the estate for the wellbeing of everyone entrusted to our care. I believe you enjoy love and support of our people. I hope your mutual affection is a solace to all of you in these most difficult of times.

I will not write about war. You see plenty of its gory results by yourself. How I wish you, we, none of us would be burdened with this suffering brought upon us by those who are deemed to posses the wisdom to lead us.

There is hell all around me. But as I am thinking of you right now, I feel as if we were having a conversation in person. I can hear your clear, soothing voice. I smell your perfume. I can see you now and look in your eyes. And peace and happiness are in my heart.

I must stop for I am due for the first night watch. Take good care of yourself – I know, it would be useless to ask you not to work so hard – I w . Stay safe. I love you.

Christopher  

“Oh, Chris,” whispered Caitlin, leaning back in his chair. Her face was wet with silent tears. She closed her eyes, pressing the letter tightly to her heart. “I’m with you, too, right now.”

After some time she stood up, took her candle and blew out the other one. She went to their bedroom and climbed into the bed, putting the letter carefully under the pillow. Then she closed her eyes and dreamt she was with Christopher. There was a bright, sunny day. He was holding her in his embrace and they were laughing with pure joy.

 

This post is a response to Red Writing Hood, a weekly writing meme hosted at The Red Dress Club. This week's prompt asked to have you or your character find a forgotten letter or card from someone important in your life - whether good or bad. What does it say? How does it affect you or your character? What is done with it?