One snowy December morning, Nicola Meyer awakens to find a weathered ivory envelope on her doorstep. She could tell from the cursive script which was addressed to a Miss Elizabeth Claire and the vintage stamp that this letter wasn't from her time. U...
1. a character representing one or more of the sounds used in speech; any of the symbols of an alphabet. 2. a written, typed, or printed communication, sent in an envelope by post or messenger.
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"...We'll meet again, Don't know where, Don't know when, But I know we'll meet again some sunny day, Keep smiling through, Just like you always do..." - We'll Meet Again - Vera Lynn
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In peace, son's bury their father. In war father's bury their son's
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LONDON, England. December 22nd 1992
A creak resonated throughout the crisp morning air as Nicola left her quaint house. Her woolen scarf whipped behind her as a brisk chill rushed past her bundled body, shivering as she tried to lock her house, her trembling fingers dropped her keys. Crouching to her now snow covered front porch she rummaged her woolen mitten covered hand through the thick powdery blanketing, internally cheering as she grasped her keys.
As she rose, something caught her eye. In the soft pile of iridescent flakes, peaked a weathered, moisture ridden ivory envelope. Her brows furrowed as she reached out for the letter, she wasn't expecting any mail--maybe her mother decided to send her card early?
Lifting the letter to her face she first noticed the hand writing, the cursive script was nothing like her mother's illegible handwriting. Flipping the letter over, she observed that the once clear sapphire ink scrawled across the front in a cursive script, was now smudged. But that wasn't what caught her attention. It was the name the letter was addressed to.
Miss Elizabeth Claire.
She had no idea who this woman was, but it appeared she once lived in this house as the address matched her current residence. Flicking her eyes over the envelope she paused on the stamps, more importantly whom was on the stamp. It wasn't England's current Monarch, Queen Elizabeth the second but her father, King George the sixth.
Now, she wasn't the best at history, in fact she struggled to retain information, but even she knew this meant the letter had to be from the forties. Dating this letter to be at least fifty years old. Could this be a Dear Johnletter from the War? Wait- no that would be the other way around...could it perhaps be a proposal? She was a hopeless romantic at heart, and now her interest was piqued.
Was this Elizabeth still alive? And if so, where was she?
She had to know.
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