While visiting Verona, Italy, with her best friend, Jenny, a young woman named Ali Hall visits a wall where the heartbroken leave notes to Shakespeare's tragic heroine, Juliet Capulet. Finding one such letter from 1930, Ali decides to write to its n...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
⊱ ──────── ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ──────── ⊰
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆, the bells of Verona were heard as Ali and Jenny woke from their slumber. Both girls began their morning routines, got dressed for the day, and put their sunglasses on their heads, and Ali led Jenny to the office of Juliet's secretaries.
"Good morning." Ali smiled, greeting the secretaries as she and Jenny walked into the office. "This is my best friend, Jenny."
"Hello Jenny! It's a pleasure to meet you!" Isabella smiled, embracing the brunette
"Hi! It's a pleasure meeting you as well." Jenny smiled, returning Isabella's embrace.
"I need to mail off these letters, would you both mind helping me?" Isabella asked, handing them both a wicker basket of letters each.
"Of course." Ali smiled.
The ladies walked down the busy street of Verona, a wicker basket in each of their hands. Ali smiled as she admired the buildings and homes on the street, and smiling at the pleasant smells from the local restaurant hitting her nostrils.
The ladies began to mail the written letters, placing them in the small red mailboxes, checking the letters one by one, making sure they were properly sealed. After mailing the letters, they began their walk back to Juliet's house.
At 5 pm on the dot, the courtyard began to close. Ali and Jenny started to carefully take the letters one at a time and placed them in the wicker basket, listening to the sound of the Veronan bells from the clock, and to Ali, it was a rather peaceful sound, opposed to the hustle and bustle of New York City.
As Ali was removing a letter from the wall, she pulled one that was held by a loose stone from the wall, making the stone fall near her foot. She went to put the stone back in its place when she noticed that inside the space, there was something stored. She looked closer and found a piece of paper, carefully folded and placed almost at the end of the wall, and she carefully removed the paper that was stored inside.
Ali couldn't believe what she was seeing. This wasn't just a letter to Juliet, but it was an old letter that was folded in a worn, dirty, and yellowed envelope. On the front of the envelope, in immaculate handwriting was: Juliet, Verona. On the back, was the address of a woman by the name of Claire Smith, with the address of London, England. So many throughts ran through the blonde's head. Did this letter choose me? Why did I find this letter? Was it happenstance?
Noticing the way her best friend was glancing at the envelope, Jenny questioned "Ali, what's that?"
Ali studied the old letter for a moment. "I'm not sure. It was hidden behind this fallen stone. All I know is that there was a letter in this hole."
Isabella approached them with the wicker basket full of letters in her hands. "A letter? You found a letter?"
Ali placed the stone back in its slot, and stood up, holding the letter in her hand. "Yes." Ali began to place the letter in the wicker basket, only to be stopped by Isabella. "What is it?" the blonde questioned, rather confused
"This letter is special. She obviously chose you. C'mon, you need to read that letter." Isabella said, leading the two girls back to the office.
Upon arriving back to the office, Jenny and Isabella sat at the table with the other secretaries, while Ali carefully opened the envelope, carefully removing the fragile letter. She carefully unfolded the letter, and held it in her dainty hands, and began to read the letter which was dated from 1930.
Ali began to read the letter. "I didn't go to him, Juliet. I didn't go to Lorenzo. His eyes were so full of trust. I promised I'd meet him to run away together because my parents don't approve. But instead, I left him waiting for me, below our tree, waiting and wondering where I was. I'm in Verona now. I return to London in the morning, and I'm so afraid. Please, Juliet, tell me what I should do. My heart is breaking, and I have no one else to turn to. Love, Claire.It was written in 1931."
"And it's been there for all those years?" Francesca asked, one eyebrow raised, pointing to the vintage letter in Ali's hands, only for the blonde to shrug and give a soft smile.
Donatella tapped her pen on her cheek. "I think she came back to find her one true love.
Maria added, "And they had ten children. And they still make love with the same passion every night."
"Except he got bald and fat and she had to do all the work." Francesca daid
"Francesca." Isabella and Donatella said in unison
"And maybe she stayed in London and married a Duke and lived happily ever after just like me." Donatella said.
"But you married an accountant, not a Duke." Francesca stated
"Nobody is perfect." Donatella shrugged
"And I bet when she's making love to that Duke, she's imagining her first love, Lorenzo." Maria said
Ali glanced down at the letter in her hand. Yes this letter was well over 50 years old, but, as her mother always told her, true love does not have an expiration date, and it's never easy, but once you find it, you must fight for it, as it can never be replaced. She was going to do the impossible. She was going to respond.
"Isabella, I have to write back." Ali said
Isabella handed a pen and paper to the blonde and softly replied, "Then answer her."
Ali took the piece of paper and sat down next to her best friend, who also began answering letters to the broken hearted. Hours had passed, and Ali had written draft after draft, trying to find what to say. When it was nightfall, the secretaries were gone, only Ali and Jenny remained: Ali writing her letter, and Lori asleep, with her head on her arms.
Once Ali was finished with her letter, she put the letter in the envelope, addressed it, placed a stamp in the corner, placed it in the wicker basket, and woke Jenny up, as Isabella's mother gave them Ragu Alla Bolognese.
Back at the hotel room, Jenny laid in her bed asleep, while Ali glanced at the small photo of her beloved mother, Freya, which she always kept with her in her locket which she never took off.
Flashback — New York City, NY. Summer 1976
"Ali, come here my sweet darling." her mother, Freya smiled as she sat in the living room.
Ali smiled as she ran towards the living room, her dolls in her hands and climbed next to her mother on the couch. "What is it mother?"
"I saw this in Tiffany's today, and your father and I knew you had to have it." Freya smiled, wrapping her arms around her daughter, who carefully opened the gift.
Ali opened the box to an intricate, dainty, gold, oval shaped locket, which held a photo of Freya on one side, and Ali's father on the other.
"Mother, I love it." Ali smiled, embracing the blonde woman. "Thank you so much."
Freya smiled as she returned her daughter's embrace, then placed the locket around her daughter's neck. "My sweet Ali, I want you to promise me two things: one, always treat others with dignity and respect, no matter their social class. Everyone is fighting a battle we know nothing about; second, always remember to listen to your heart. Always let it guide you, in your decision making, never lead from the head. There's never an expiration date on love either, which you will understand when you are older."
"I promise mother." Ali smiled, embracing the blonde woman once more. "I love you."
Freya smiled as she ran her fingers through her daughter's blonde hair. "I love you too, sweetheart."
End of Flashback
After wiping her silent tears, Ali said a silent prayer, hoping Claire had recieved her letter, then closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
