(Another writing prompt)
She was holding it in her hands. She couldn’t not touch it, feel it, hang on to it for dear life. These were his words to her and something more. This was the first time she had something of his to hold on to physically. Proof that he was real and not a figment of her imagination.
It wasn’t just the letter, though. It was a promise. It was proof that he meant what he said and that he was paying attention. He saw her as no one else did. He could keep his word, and oh how she loved his word.
She didn’t want to let go. She could never think of a time where she would feel that way.
She needed to protect this piece of him. It was the kept promise that she needed.
A simple letter and a shirt with his smell.
Lisa Gray 