2. Written Words "A word is dead when it is said, some say. I say it just begins to live that day."
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PAPER CRUMBLES UNDER EAGER FINGERS, RIPPING AND OPENING TO LET THEM SLITHER IN THE ENVELOPE AND PULL OUT ITS TREASURED JEWELS. A letter sent by the one person the Russell boy held dear to his heart who wasn't related to him in some extraordinary way. It brought a heat in his belly and his blood to rush his thrilling excitement all over his buzzing limbs. His eyes quickly stumble upon your messy handwriting, the pads on his fingers running against the back to feel the slight dents created in the paper from your heavy scratches in pencil to imagine you huddling over a desk in a guest room, your mind on him and him only. Sparks run in his veins at the image, your mind clouding over with thoughts of him and memories you shared together only a few months ago.
"Dear Arvin,
Guess who's coming back in a few days? That's right, go and celebrate and tell the entire town how it's most missed person was finally coming back after a brutal winter. Who knows, they might even throw a parade just for me. Anyway I wanted to tell you that I'm doing fine, nothing out of the ordinary then the last time I wrote to you, other than the fact I'm not too happy with my family at the moment. But nothing to worry about Arv, it'll be fine by the time I'm down there and calmed down. Oh and thank Lenora again for giving me that little nickname, Arv. It's cute for a little cute boy. No need to write me back since I'll be there before the letter would meet the house.
Until then, From your favorite Winters
p.s.
Happy Birthday Arvin Russell, you are now of age."
A coy smile blooms across thin, chapped lips. Alluring scotch brown eyes rolling at the little nickname Lenora had scribbled in before the letter was shipped off, her face carrying a small smug smirk on her lips the rest of the day and a mischievous glow in her bright irises. It was her way of getting back at Arvin for eating the rest of her chocolate she ate during certain times of the month to wallow in the pain. He may have apologized and bought her a new bar of the rich sugar, but a lady never forgives a man for eating one of her only comfort foods.
Arvin lays the letter neatly on top of a growing pile on his wooden nightstand while he crushed the ripped envelope in his large hand, but pauses. Something hard but flexible was sitting in the corner of the glued paper. Curiously, Arvin flattens out the folds and digs his finger into the flap, his digits hitting something cold. Arvin slowly took it out, and what he saw left his smile to grow into a loving grin.
It was a small metal keychain of the Empire State Building. The metal shines and reflects against the moons light and glowing stars which pools from his open window, letting the summer wind cool down his heated room. It's a small and simple gift, but it came from you. Well, that little fact gave more meaning to the keychain then any money he got from his grandmother this year. Yes, he appreciates anything his grandmother has given him for his birthday, always trying to savor the bills as long as he could before he used it all up for gas or other essentials. But with your little present... it brought a deep and heavenly meaning to the metal object. Like the keychain was created just for you to give to him out of your feelings to Arvin, no matter if he didn't know how on-page they were at the moment.
