Each week when her letter arrived, I savoured the words. Sitting still and quiet on my bed, hearing the voice of my first and always best friend through the carefully shaped letters on the paper. Holding my doll with the shorn head, the one whose golden tresses we'd taken craft scissors to in order to differentiate her from Shiney's identical blonde doll.
The year before I'd had to have my mom read these precious letters to me, and even at that young age I resented having to have an outsider in our conversations. But now I could read for myself. How different and yet the same Shiney's life was up the highway. She told me what she was learning at school. She talked about her horse and her brother and her parents. She expressed her impatience at having to print to me instead of using cursive - cursive is much faster, you know. Shiney is a year older than me, and always that one or two steps ahead.
The year before I'd had to have my mom read these precious letters to me, and even at that young age I resented having to have an outsider in our conversations. But now I could read for myself. How different and yet the same Shiney's life was up the highway. She told me what she was learning at school. She talked about her horse and her brother and her parents. She expressed her impatience at having to print to me instead of using cursive - cursive is much faster, you know. Shiney is a year older than me, and always that one or two steps ahead.
Eventually she would move back, and we'd be neighbours again for a short while. We'd have more adventures, and misadventures, and then she'd leave again. But our life-long friendship was forged on the pages of kitten and puppy stationery, ragged shapes becoming smooth cursive, etched out with wobbly pencils and smudging pens. Our secrets and dreams and heartbreak passed through the mail for many years, paper eventually gave way to electronic data. And always underneath the message was that smiling puppy on the mint field.
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Write on Edge prompt:
A stand-alone scene, fiction or memoir, in 500 words or less, involving a handwritten letter.
Come back and link up on Friday. We’re looking forward to reading!
Sigh. So sweet and vivid. I could see it all. Nicely done!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Shelton :)
DeleteI agree, so sweet! Your writing is so good! (I loved the bit about the doll with shorn hair...who got the better end of that deal?!)
ReplyDeleteWell, she got the prettier doll, but we both got spanked. We really were in it together. :)
DeleteWhen I was eleven I moved from Australia to the US and left behind my best friend. We corresponded for years: fat envelopes, aerogrammes, cards. There was a hiatus for fifteen years and then the correspondence picked up again when I was in the Middle East. Another hiatus and now we're friends on FaceBook. Best friends since 1970...
ReplyDeleteThat's wonderful, Asproulla, and a very similar pattern to Shiney and I. 41 years and counting :)
DeleteThis took me back to my elementary school days, many moons ago, when I had pen pals that I'd met while visiting relatives or away at a convention of some sort. It captures the anticipation and the excitement that always led up to the day when one of these letters would land in the mailbox. Kinda makes me miss the 'old days'. Thank you for a wonderful trip down memory lane.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Denise. I do miss the excitement of 'real mail' ... I hope it's a custom that comes back. :)
DeleteWhat wonderful memories! Each letter must be a treasure. Lovely post, well done.
ReplyDeleteI packed the letters around for many years, though they have finally been lost. We still have the memories though, and the incredible friendship. :)
DeleteOh my goodness! I remember the same kinds of things!!! It's only been about 20 years for my best friend and me but the scene could be almost identical.
ReplyDeleteAren't those fun memories to share, Wisper :)
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