My Mama Told Me Not To Worry

Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?

-Jesus Christ-

Lying face down amidst a sea of letters was Anne. Her dress spread around her, giving the illusion of a damsel in distress.

Waking up with a groan, she sits up with papers sticking to her face, an adhesive seemingly created by tears.

Rising up and brushing the papers off her, she walks across the room into a corridor, leading straight towards another door.

Pausing at the door way, one thought bothered her, what would be on the other side of this door, another day? Another meeting? More people?

Taking a step back, she walked back into the room where she came from.

It was big like every other normal room, the only thing different was the unreal amount of paper strewn everywhere.

The papers crumpled beneath her feet as she walked in, air blowing from the window caused some to rise.

Turning to the left she saw the doll house made from letters. If her memory served her well, it was from a little girl who lived on the clouds 2 miles away.

Picking up a letter of the roof of the house, it read,

"Dear Anne,

Today, I brushed my teeth before going to bed, mama was very proud of me, she even promised to get me a jar of cookies on the morrow. I doubt I'll be able to sleep 'cause all I'll be thinking about is cookies. Anne, I don't know if this sounds greedy but I wouldn't mind my mom getting me one for Christmas. Yunno, a dollhouse. Flora has one and it's so beautiful. She invites meregularly for tea with her dolls, Jannie and Sandra. I also want o be able to invite her for tea yunno. A jar of cookies is enough to keep me smiling for now. My mom is awesome! Good night Anne!

With Love,

Mirabel

Xoxoxo

Smiling, Anne put the letter back in place. One might wonder why would kids send letter to an adult whom they feel would never keep their secrets. It was a simple answer, Kids sense those whom they can trust and she was one.

She lived in the cloud at hemisphere 21 before sunset. Every day she got letters, more often than once, there were some she had to readdress to The Father. Some letters sat in the heart, some in form of soliloquy and some in death. She had the sole task of being companion all the days of her life.

The door bell rang and she raced to the door, taking a deep breath before opening. The mailman smiled at her, he was a charming one with skin akin to caramel, with a cherry on top called a great smile.

"Sign here miss." He said, handing over a pen and jotter. She whispered a thank you when the transaction was complete and loaded the box inside, shutting the door immediately.

Heaving the box up, hair small muscles screamed in pain from all the lack of activity.

Dumping it on the pile of papers with a sigh, she brushes the hair from her face. With a snap of her finger, the box rips open.

This time around, the box was filled with journals, her head tilted to the side with a confused expression on her face, she knelt beside the box, and rechecked the address.

It was definitely hers.

This was supposed to be for Miss Pinehard, 'why is it addressed to me?' She ondered. Digging around the box, her palm felt the familiar smoothness of an envelope.