Work Text:
She comes across the letters while clearing the house, readying it for sale.
They’re dated from September 1914 to August 1918.
Some letters are postmarked “London”; her Dad was in government, and they’re in his handwriting.
She doesn’t recognise the other penmanship. Those letters are postmarked “France”.
She’s drawn to the last envelope in the unknown hand. Its folds are delicate, repeatedly folded and unfolded. Someone has been reliving the emotions and sentiments of the words within the pages for many years, day after day, until worn and frail.
Opening it, she reads:
Remember, I am yours, always, Charles
Nicholas
