His letter is almost transparent and the indigo ink has faded to grey. Her crooked fingers clutch at the paper, stained with age spots like the ones on her bony hands. She can hear his voice and imagines how he would look now that they are old. Instead she sees a young man, resplendent in his soldier’s uniform.
‘I’m not going make it. I wish you love and happiness, please let me go my love… Goodbye.’ it read.
Her tears forge their well-tracked path, spilling, and she whispers.
‘I will never leave you, see you soon my love, I’m nearly there.’
This is a flash fiction piece of exactly 100 words