Snail Mail

I crouch down on all fours and the cold tile licks at my knees. As I peer through the clear patches in the tiny opaque door my breath catches, I have mail. I try to woo the lock open with a delicate mating dance of the most precise twists and turns, but it doesn't budge. I tuck my annoyance back behind my building anticipation and try again. On the third try the lock surrenders and I'm smug as I rob the box of her treasures. Today, I have received three letters and I'm already tearing open an envelope as I race back to the office. The first is from DP. She has enclosed a short note, two photographs, a coloring book page, and a beautiful red and gold bracelet from her family in India. The next envelope is from EH. She is quite the character, and my curiosity peaks as I pull out a small square of thick white paper. It's a lovely and tender block print that makes me laugh aloud. It depicts a fork crying as his spoon partner elopes with the moon; an image from a game of telephone pictionary played back in May. There is no note. The last envelope is heavy in my hands, and I have a good guess as to what's inside. I open this one more slowly, savoring the moment. Inside are 23 photos from BM all from his adventures in Spain and Morocco during his spring semester abroad. He has written a letter that spans the back of the entire collection. The photos follow a specific order as he takes me on a magical journey through a distant land. When I finish reading, I flip the stack over and read it again. Not only are the photos stunning, but BM's writing is as well. He transports me to another time and place, and it's as though he is sitting right next to me reading the words aloud. I feel the remnants of an old flame spread through my abdomen, sending color to my cheeks. I know nothing will come of it, and that's alright. I haven't felt something for someone in so long it's just nice to know I still possess the ability. I arrive back at work with my head brimming with ideas for my responses. Needless to say, I love snail mail. I like to hold a letter in my hand, to feel the paper, to see a person's face in the lines of their handwriting. It is one of the most tender ways to show someone you care. So as I tuck the letters into my bag, the bliss lingers.