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Subjective

Wednesday April 13, 2011

Open your e-mail and randomly choose the subject line of a message. Make that the first line of your story. Then, choose another subject line, and make that the last line of your story.

April newsletter.  Typed in bold letters across a bundle of white pages.  Standing there exposed on the roadside in nothing but the nubby old robe she had grabbed for the journey, Jaylnn ran her eyes over the letters again, thinking they might rearrange themselves if she cocked her chin at a different angle.  No.  They looked the same the second time around.  Unbelievable.

If it was April, then she had been in that house more than four months.  The idea made something clench deep in her belly and she had to lean against the mailbox to keep from collapsing on the gravel.  Her mind resisted, but her body knew.  She could feel it in the dampness at the back of her neck.  Had felt it every time the wind picked up since she stepped out into the world.  It wasn’t a winter wind, she knew that.

Jaylnn was expecting the green HOLD slip, that was hardly a surprise.  When nobody picked up the mail, the post office stopped delivering it.  That had happened before.  What she wasn’t expecting were the pages that she held in her hand.  The bundle had neither stamp nor return address.  How did it get here and what did it mean?  When she broke the thin layer of tape that held the pages together, the sheet opened and held only four words.  A picture for you.

She snatched her hand back towards her body and the pages fluttered into the gravel.

 


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One Comment leave one →
  1. Wednesday April 13, 2011 3:24 pm

    Riveting. I wanted to read more.

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