365 Days- Book I

138. Mailbox

November 15, 2018

"Create a poem, short story, or journal entry based on a recent item of mail you've received."

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It was an old letter, carefully preserved and saved, wrapped in fine muslin cloth.

The letter was fine paper, ivory with fine gold threads shot through it. She had no doubt that the gold was pure, only pure gold was malleable enough to be drawn into fine threads and the sender was wealthy enough to afford it. The paper would most likely also have silk fibres in it, that was the only way the paper could get its sheen. 

She did not doubt the quality of paper, only the finest and the most expensive would do for him. His tastes were expensive and refined, his wealth substantial enough to allow him to indulge them. He always surrounded himself with the best that could be found in the world, it was just that she was not enough.

Their betrothal was decided when they were mere children, a political necessity where only the future as envisaged then was considered, they were too young to know or understand. Consequently, she had spent all her growing years, grooming herself to be a fit companion for him; she learnt of his whims and fancies, his tastes and dislikes. She read the books he read, learnt the skills he acquired and a few more which could go a long way in helping him like her. She did not expect him to love her; his choice of women were the tall leggy kind with porcelain skin and gold hair. Short, golden of skin, with raven tresses and deep brown eyes, was not the woman he liked. Yet, she decided to make herself indispensable, bearable if not loved.

Unfortunately, they had reckoned without his willpower or Destiny's hand; he knew the conditions which had forced his family to bind him to the engagement and he worked to reverse them, succeeding so well, that he simply broke the engagement without any repercussions, they had gone too powerful; nothing could be done and nothing was done.

The letter was all that they received, a single sentence stating that the engagement was called off. To add to that public humiliation was the galling though that he had not bothered to meet her even once; she was not sure how she would have reacted if he told that to her face but a part of her wished that she mattered enough to merit a visit.

Now, ten years later, it still galled, though she had changed. And now that she had a motive to take her revenge, she would do so. It was time for payback.

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Word count 419 - I am not sure what I wrote - briefly inspired by a lovely story I read a few days ago. And yes, I have taken a literary licence too.