Every Escape I’ve Known

I opened the mailbox and pulled out a stack of envelopes. As I thumbed through them before making the short walk back to the house, I saw it. The return address. And I knew.

The contents of the small envelope would wound me.

Deeply.

As the sender has wounded me so many times before.

My breath caught and tears brimmed as I made my way back into the house where I dropped the mail on the kitchen counter, with the exception of one small envelope. Maybe I’m wrong… Maybe it isn’t what I suspect…

I to...