Rue was known simply as “The funny old lady who lived down the road”. That’s because she lived down the road and was a funny old lady.
No one knew her very well, but she seemed pleasant enough when greeted in passing. She lived down a fairly long driveway. It would have been a good ten minutes’ walk. Rue would wander down it every day at the same time (never on a Sunday) to check the mail box on the side of the road. As far back as anyone could remember (and that would be a good forty years) she had never missed a day.
A good forty years ago she had lost a son in some war or other. Which war it was no one really knew. He hadn’t been in the war for very long when he was killed. He’d never written home. Somehow Rue hoped he had written and the letter was “lost in the mail”. Sometimes a letter can do that. But lost for forty years? So everyday deep down when she opened the mail box to check she always thought of her son.
It was a momentary thing. It was a brief daily ritual. But today was different! There was a letter there! But it wasn’t from her son as such, but almost. It was the ticket to go see his grave.
Final closure, very moving ❤️
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Thank you!
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Oh, Bruce.
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Thank you!
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Oh, that one struck a nerve.
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Thank you!
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Very touching, Bruce. A bit of a departure from your usual ‘killer’ last lines.
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Although it was a killer in its own way, Chris. I had tears in my muesli!
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“You are the tears in my muesli” would make a good song.
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Along with “I’ve got tears in my ears, from crying on my back”????
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☺
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Thank you Chris!
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Moving
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Aw. This one got me in the heart.
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Aw, thanks!
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A story as beautiful in its unfolding as it is heartbreaking. The ingenious twist multiples both sweetness and sadness of the story. Such a long journey to closure!
PS: Don’t you ever stop writing, Bruce.
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Thanks for the comment and PS Uma. The writing is okay – it’s the complication of posting the damn things – targets, categories, dates, pictures, formatting…
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Never mind!
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