Page 168 of Glitched Play

It’s not long before all the jars are finished and we’ve cleaned up the crafting chaos. I hug everyone bye and when I break from Noelle, her stare lingers for a half-second.

I make my escape while they’re all gathering toys, and sippy cups.

I blow out a breath when I get into my car.

The letter.

The drive home is quiet.

My tote sits on the passenger seat.

The envelope peeks out from the top.

I've carried it with me for months from the time it only had Glitch’s name on it to now where it’s been fully written.

Every time I thought about mailing it, something stopped me.

Hope.

Fear.

Timing.

I don't know, but I see the red, white and blue sign of the post office at the next intersection. My fingers grip the steering wheel a little tighter.

I drive past it, but then I signal and make a u-turn.

Five minutes later I'm standing beneath the fluorescent lights, the envelope suddenly feeling heavier than paper should.

I run my thumb across the name one last time.

Glitch.

I take out my phone and a pen and add the forwarding address on the front.

Some endings deserve an answer.

Others...

Simply deserve to be finished.

I slide the letter into the blue mailbox. It disappears as my opal ring hits the box with a soft metallic clink.

For the first time in ten years, there are no more words left to send.

I smile all the way home.

thirty-three

. . .

Witt

Last Letter Glitch

I’d rather know the truth than to be left trying to decode it.

Dad: Mail came.