Fictions- Can touch your heart -1

He sat at the desk, tears once again filling his eyes. Looking at the pile of letters makes his heart break a little, every time he sees them.  He needed them to be real, but they were never mailed.  They had no actual destination, just in his imagination. It’s the way he handles it, learned to deal with it, otherwise he couldn’t go on.

Every day he writes another, some days more than one. he notes the weather, what’s blooming in the garden, what friends he met for dinner, all casual conversations he would have said to her if she were near.  And then the love is written, expressing his passion for her and how he wished she was there. He speaks of his loneliness when he goes to bed at night without her. He tells her how much he misses her and longs to join her.

He writes these words every day.  When the week is done he gathers them in a ribbon and attaches a rose. He makes the journey to her grave and leaves them there.  He knows she finds them because each time he returns, they’ve been opened and read. He picks up the older, weathered bunch, holds them to his heart and returns home.

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