The Letter

The letter came to me:
delivered, to my doorstep,
by a invisible mailman
with piercing blue eyes.

I walked to my room
holding my new-found gift.

The envelope was yellowed
and smelled of mildew
like it has been resting
in a long-forgotten
attic
behind a pile
of a now old woman's
stuffed dolls.
There was no stamp
and no self address:
only two words
were scribbled
for me to read.
Those two words
read "From Life"

Smiling, smirking,
I tossed the letter
behind my queen-sized bed.
I was not in the mood
for jokes today.

And it was only
when I was drunk,
high, and dying
from intoxicating pills
did I remember
that letter.
In the time frame
of eleven years
I had lost five jobs,
married, divorced twice
and gotten arrested
for armed robbery.
Life had been
so very, very cruel.

I wondered what
she had written me.
Perhaps it was
a map to success?
A key to unlock
all the riches
she had to offer?

With shaking hands
I reached for
that envelope
I had so stupidly neglected
all those years ago.
Although it has been eaten away
by dust, time, and the
occasional mouse,
I was able
to rip the envelope open.

A perfectly-white
piece of paper
drifted into my left hand.
And only
after ten minutes
was I able to stop reading
the letter from Life
that was completely void

of any writing

at all.


~J.V.Harker~
~Thursday 23 July 2009~