Micro Fiction Monday: Love, You

When she turned fourteen, a letter arrived for her in the mail. There was no address, either for the sender or recipient; how it arrived successfully, she wasn’t sure. But there was no mistake about the name that was written neatly on the envelope—the contents inside were for her.

She thought that the handwriting seemed familiar.

She didn’t open it, not at first. She dismissed its existence, diverting her attention to the more exciting packages wrapped in brightly coloured paper. It wasn’t until the sun had gone down, and the special day was all but over, when she found it again, abandoned on the floor. She tore the envelope open, not giving much care for its contents...until she unfolded the paper inside.

One letter, not half a page long, written neatly on a piece of lined paper torn out of a notebook. The curves in the writing mimicked hers exactly—she herself had written this letter.

Or would write it, eventually.

Smile, it said. Be brave. Be fearless. Don’t check that mirror in your locker; you look fine. Don’t worry about that boy that sits two desks over from you in math; he isn’t worth your time.

And, finally, you are you. You are as perfect as you ever will be and ever have been. Your best qualities are infinitely better than your worst flaws.

Do not fear yourself; embrace yourself.

Love, You.

She went to bed with a smile that night, the mysterious letter taking precedence in her mind over the most extravagant of birthday presents that year.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne

Birthday Mail (Micro-Fiction Monday)

The street is empty. Why is it still empty? The mail comes like clockwork, every morning, without fail. Why does it have to be today of all days that it’s late?

I’m wearing my best dress today; I’m not entirely sure why. Between school and work I probably won’t have a chance to meet him for a few days. He won’t see me as I rip open the envelope, tear the paper out and greedily absorb the name printed on it. He won’t see me as I place the index card in the frame my parents bought me for my birthday—the birthday where I finally find out who I’ll be spending the rest of my life with.

But still, there’s no harm in looking nice, right?

The mail courier comes into sight, finally—just in time for me to meet her on my way to school. I jump off the sofa, grab my bag with one hand and cover the doorknob with the other as I shove my feet into my shoes. I shout a quick goodbye over my shoulder, one that my mom most likely didn’t hear in my rush to close the door behind me.

I approach the courier as she’s opening our front gate, my smile wide and fingers twitching with anticipation. She knows what I’m here for; she gives me a knowing smile as she hands me my mail. I resist the urge to rip it open then and there, pausing only to thank her before rushing off down the street.

I stop at the corner, breathless, and slip my finger under the paper, ripping it open in one swift movement. In my eagerness, the contents flutter to the ground beneath me. I curse and stoop down quickly, but what I see on the ground makes my fingers freeze in midair.

Two things have fallen out of the envelope. Two stiff cards, with the same elegant, formal writing that were printed on the framed cards in my parents’ bedroom.

Two cards…with two different names.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne