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JO JANOSKI resides in Pittsburgh, PA, USA with her husband, Ron.
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A Difficult Letter
 A Difficult Letter ... Painting by James de Vine Aylward
It was the night of Halloween, and I settled at my desk to read my letters. A dismal night it was, too, with a black sky outside, ominous and daring, with a recalcitrant moon poking again through obscured clouds. Those gray puffs skimmed across the inky black like ghosts, capes flowing behind them journeying to God knows where. The moon screamed its presence for all to hear, luminous and expressive, with much to say that night. As I walked home, every darkened tree warned me a goblin might be hiding behind it, ready to pounce and conquer. What do goblins want anyway? I didn't know, and I didn't want to find out.
Thus, my friends, was my state of mind as I arrived home to read my letters. The first of these was a bill which I tossed aside. The second, I did much the same; but the third, upon seeing the chaotic scrawl across the envelope, set my hand to trembling. The penmanship, angular in places, thick and hurried, belied a personality demanding to be heard. Indeed, it was such forceful writing, it yelled and cursed at the reader.
I ripped the packet open, carefully, slowly, showing it due respect. This was difficult with the way my hand was shaking; but the deed got accomplished, all the same. As I slipped my fingers in, my hand protested and started to shake again. I couldn't control it. Whatever message the letter contained, my hand wanted nothing to do with it. Exasperated, I tried with the other; but alas, it trembled even more violently. Finally, with hands like an invalid I clawed at it, grabbing and tugging until the paper ripped. Finally, the injured letter inside, dented and defiled, fell to the floor, escaping the shreds I'd made of the packet.
I pulled it with my foot, scraping along the floor until the envelope rested under the chair. Next, I got down on my knees and tossed the letter about with my shaking hands, my available elbows, whatever I could use to unfold the nasty missive. Truly, I felt so exhausted it was difficult to care at that point what the letter said. But, still on my knees, I leaned forward to read the note where I'd left off with it, on the floor under the chair. It was a stretch, but I could see it at last. Such irony! There I was on my knees, reading a letter from the tax office, questioning my ciphers for my last payment. How fitting for Halloween, the night goblins come out. I should have known. |
Posted: 09:48 PM, October 27, 2007 in Short Stories |
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a difficult letter
| the scariest letter of all!!!! very clever!!! |
Posted by paisley at 06:08 AM, October 28, 2007 |
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