letters from war.

December 4th 1954.

I sprinted to the mailbox, in my bare feet making the cold wet snow even worse on my feet. As I got to the mailbox I waved thank you to the mailman and ran back in my little white house on the outskirts of Maine .I push open my door and run up the spiral staircase up to my room. When I get there I close the door and sit and my desk, I look through the assorted mail, consisting of bills and ads and a letter from my sister who lives in Arizona. I didn't get anything from him. I move the mail in to a pile, as soon as I do I see another letter. Not just any letter but a letter from Derek.