Unpromised Home

the prices of life

You pull the paper from your pocket, smoothing it out to the best of your capabilities. The graphite you had used to write the list was smeared and smudged across the page and into the creases it had gained from its long life sitting in your pocket. The words were almost unreadable now but you read over it so many times that the contents of the shopping list were burned into your mind, despite its new irrelevance. 

Smoothing the paper with the movement of your thumb, you glance back up to the snow drifting around outside. The size of the flakes had shrunk over the last few minutes, but the wind kept up its pace, tossing the small flecks around in an unhinged waltz of the elements. The sky was gray, shadowing over the ground in a solid blanket of dull weather.

You turn your head towards the door to the office as it creaks open. Layla taps the ends of a stack of envelopes on the palm of her hand. She smiles at you warmly when she takes note of you.

"I figured you would be in here," Layla tosses America's collection of letters on his desk, as she approaches you. You can hear America scoff as he walks back across his office. "These ones are for you."

"Thank you."

"Just doing my job." She waves at you, before taking her leave from the room. 

You flip through the two envelopes, shuffling them in a repeated, redundant manner.  You glance out the window again, staring intently at the small snowflakes that blow through the air. 

The thicker of the two envelopes was decidedly from Vivian and Justin. The last letter they sent you was even thicker, several pages of double sided rambling. The writing had been a mangle of mismatched printing and smudged pen, results of what you can only assume to be a fight over the paper. Those two... How they haven't burned their house down yet is unbelievable. 

The other envelope is much thinner. You couldn't imagine it holding more than a single piece of paper, differing itself from the nonsensical spilling of words from the Evans. You tap the edges of both letters, placing the thinner of the two envelopes on the top. 

An estranged noise comes from your throat as you read the address, written in small cursive. Not that receiving a letter from this person is a bad thing, but its certaintly off putting to be getting one so out of the blue. You flip the envelope over, carefully ripping it open to reveal the letter stuck inside. You breathe in deeply, opening the folded letter to showcase the typewritten characters plastered in the center of the page. 

Hello,

It's been a little while. I hope America has been treating you well. I'm sure I would have heard if he wasn't, but I still feel I should check in.

Life on my end has been well, if your interested. A bit chaotic all things considered. Washington specifically has been getting on my nerves. She can be a lot sometimes, but I've been managing.

Surprisingly, I got a message from Texas too. Told me about your little adventure to the post with  America's mail. And about what Tennesse said about those friends of yours, and more about you. What you said to be more specific. Please don't push yourself too far, alright? If you ever need a break from the office I'd be glad to have you for a visit. 

Another thing, now that I think about it. How has that bruise on your arm been healing? I'm sure it's not that painful to deal with anymore, but it was pretty bad when you first arrived. You never did tell me what he did to you.