Letters to a Soldier

Chapter 2

There was an envelope waiting on the top step of her front porch that afternoon. Darcy leaned down to pick it up, puzzled by what it was doing there. The mailman normally just put things straight into the mail box, never hand delivering anything personally. She wondered if perhaps it had blown out and one of her neighbours had picked it up. The very first thing that caught her eye was what appeared to be a muddy boot imprint on the corner of it. The next thing she saw was the name. T Gutterson. Her heart skipped a beat and her breath caught in her throat, caught unawares. She had nearly forgotten all about the letter she had sent, seeing as it had been two weeks ago.

She hadn't really expected him to reply. Darcy was realistic, she knew he had more important concerns than taking time to write a response to someone he didn't know. Yet here it was. Half in a daze, the brunette stumbled towards the porch swing, sinking into it. She didn't open it straight away, turning it over in her hands instead.

The porch swing creaked slightly as she rocked herself back and forth on it, still holding the unopened letter in her hands. The street was mostly silent, save for the occasional car the rolled past her house. With steady hands, she tore the edge along the envelope open with her nail, removing the letter from inside. This piece of paper didn't have any boot prints on it, she noticed, though she gave a slight grin when she saw a smudge of dirt across it.

Unfolding the letter, she let her eyes skim the page quickly, familiarising herself with Sergeant Gutterson's handwriting (though she wasn't quite sure that was handwriting or a drunken chicken had been scratching on the paper), before she settled back in the porch swing to try and read it.

To Darcy

I'm not much of a writer, or a talker for that matter, never really been much good with words. So I'll just stick to the basics and hope I don't completely screw this up. Which could happen, knowing my luck. The amount of times I had to rewrite this is kind of unbelievable and in the end, I kind of just posted the damn thing. Obviously, I got the letter you sent me, along with the package, considering I'm replying to that. Though I suppose by now you've already worked that out. Thank you for that, by the way. I don't get a lot of letters from the outside world over here. Guess not too many people really do care about what's happening if it doesn't directly involve them. It's nice to hear from someone who does care though.

I didn't exactly have anything to send you in return, but I figured if we're gonna end up as pen pals or some shit like that, you might feel less awkward writing to a complete stranger. So I've enclosed a photo of me and my buddies at base. They all love you currently, by the way. Said you are the best damn cook they ever knew. Not that they have much to compare with, considering what they are willing to eat. But I do have to agree with them this time. Anyway, I probably should end this here. I also just want to say if you don't hear from me for weeks on end, it's probably cause I'm in the middle of a shitstorm. Thanks again for the letter and biscuits.

Tim

As she finished his letter, Darcy couldn't help but laugh at how much she had worried about trying not to come across too familiar with the soldier. Apparently, that wasn't going to be an issue in this case, given his spectacular choice of words. Tim Gutterson had an interesting sense of humour, dry as it was. Her fingers reached inside the envelope, pulling out the photo he had told her was there. There were four men in the picture, grinning from ear to ear. She flipped the photo over, finding more of his dreadful handwriting on the back. He had listed the names of each of the men he was standing with and the order they appeared in.

"Tim Gutterson, Connor Jones, Doug Smith and Mason Parker," she read aloud. Flipping it back over, her eyes flickered to Tim. He was the shortest of the group, but despite that, there was something about him that made people take notice of him. And, if she was being totally honest with herself, he had a nice smile.