I had seen the ad a couple weeks ago when I had gone to the local Veterans Day celebration.
‘Send active duty soldiers care packages from home’
‘Help with morale’
I had signed up then forgotten about it until I received the email this morning with the information of a soldier they had matched me with.
Simon Riley : Call sign Ghost
They didn’t include much information about him other than he was British and where to send the package.
“Hmph, that’s not much to go on,” I mutter to myself.
I go to the local market and pick up a variety of different teas cause British. I also pick up supplies to bake some cookies, chocolate chip because who doesn’t like those.
2 hours later the sweet smell of fresh baked cookies permeates my small apartment. While the cookies cool on the counter I craft a short handwritten letter.
I introduce myself and include a few mundane details about my life. Just to be a little cheeky I spray the paper with some of my perfume, a soft vanilla and lilac scent. The next day I get everything packaged up in a small. box and I drop it at the post office.
Ghost grumbles to himself as he stares at the package sitting on his bunk.
‘Price and his stupid idea of signing us all up for some stupid care package program’ he thinks to himself.
“I don’t want this shit” he mutters.
He begrudgingly grabbed his knife from his hip and sliced through the tape on the box. The overbearing scent of chocolate and vanilla assaulted his nose. He removes the letter and tosses it on the bed already forgotten.
Under the letter and packing material Ghosts spots both the cookies and the tea.
“Hmph” he groans.
Ghost takes out the boxes of tea and looks at the suspiciously, “We’ll see i guess” he muses to himself.
He opens the container of cookies and picks one out taking a bite. It’s surprisingly good. He finishes the cookie without much thought and puts the box aside.
Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
Later that night after dinner as Ghost gets ready to turn in for the night he spots the letter sitting on the bed.
‘What can it hurt?’ he thinks.
Opening the envelope that is addressed in very elegant writing Ghost's sense of smell is overwhelmed by hints of vanilla and lilac.
“Good morning, or afternoon, or evening, I'm not sure when or if you'll read this. My name is Y/N, it's a pleasure, well, to sort of meet you. I hope this package finds you well. If I'm honest I'm not quite sure what to write or include here. I hope you enjoy the cookies, they're homemade. Sorry about the tea, they told me you were British. That's probably stereotypical. Anyway, please don't feel obligated to write back.
Kind regards, Y/N”
“Fucking Hell,” Ghost muttered as he ran a hand down his tired face. ‘Was it possible to fall in love with someone’s writing?’ He didn’t know, but he would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t just a little bit curious.
