Doris Jacobs-Covington

The Lonely Letter

was a stale old letter who had been stuffed into this crinkled
Envelope for too many years. My ink was smeared. I could barely
Read my pages. My words were blurred with age, stained with tears.

I so reeked of heartbreak and misery I could identify with the mothballs,
A disgusting aroma which further added to my discontent in this
Dusty drawer. I could hardly breathe. I felt so sealed in.

Now and then I heard the sound of shuffling. I realized other letters
Were being picked up. But I was never touched. I felt like a disease.
Ages ago I could recall being called Dear John and slammed shut in
This prison. Now, I was no great scholar, but I surmised this was no
Title of honor. I was so lonely. Nobody took me out to read and enjoy.
I had to face the fact that I held no happy memories.

Days, months, years passed with no changes. The, one day, I had an
Overpowering urge to push myself out of the envelope. It took some
Effort, but I escaped! I found an ink eraser and rubbed all the hurting
Words off my pages. I hastily rewrote myself, hurried back into my
Revised envelope, waiting. It wasn't long before I was picked up and
Read. I had found a way to erase my loneliness.


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