Posts Tagged ‘letters’

Today Pegman took us to Cape Crozier for a wee camping trip. This is my 150-word story about this rocky place.

My Dearest Angela,
The wind blew brusquely last night. Twice I found myself braving the cold to place rocks around the tent base while Charles slept soundly. Although his face is blackened by frostbite and most of his fingers are gone, he remains a pleasant companion.
I’m afraid we shall be trapped on this outcrop until spring. Snow has fallen for ten full days and buried our supplies. How I wish I had planned better. We were forced to abandon our scientific equipment two months ago for it became too heavy for the ponies to pull. Our clothes soak up moisture and do not dry out. We have eaten our leather boots. Ice crystals tear at the wool of ours socks. They are shredded.
The ponies ran away four days ago.
We have eaten all the dogs.
My one wish is to see you. Faithfully yours, Frances

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Lessons

Posted: October 8, 2014 in Friday Fictioneers
Tags: , , , , ,

Copyright-Rochelle Fields

Irena arrived by Kindertransport. Although strange, her new parents were kind.
“Poppa” played banjo at the pub. “Momma” mended clothes.
Neither earned much money.
Unlike her friend Amelia, placed in a house where daily lessons were beaten into her,
Irena learned English listening to “Poppa” recite words to songs.
He pronounced them slowly, spelled them for her while she carefully drew letters on the chalkboard beside the window.
Years passed. Irena grew tall and lanky and beautiful. She forgot her home in Warsaw Ghetto, forgot how to speak her native Polish.
Never, ever did she forget her real Momma and Poppa looking out the window of an entirely different train.

PHOTO PROMPT -Copyright - Jan Wayne Fields

My Dearest Husband,
How I wish this letter could be carried on the wings of a dove
for it is that symbol of peace I wish to convey.
Our last words were fraught with anger
drowning in tears, weighted with terror.
Please know, beyond all doubt,
my heart, soul and body will always
and forever be yours.
Your loving wife, Louisa

Dear Mrs. Longsfield,
With sorrow I must inform you that
your husband was wounded in the battle at Gettysburg.
Although he received the best surgical care
he succumbed to pyaemia July 29 of 1863.
Your friend in common affliction,
A. Lincoln

(Pyemia was spelled pyaemia in a Civil War letter I found written by Abraham Lincoln. The definition follows – Septicemia caused by pyogenic microorganisms in the blood, often resulting in the formation of multiple abscesses.)