The old woman’s story ended in loneliness. She wrote her final letter to someone unknown. The spidery writing was barely legible, written by a shaking hand.
I am sending you word to say I am alone now. Surrounded by strangers and forgetting the days. I will travel to you soon.
It was never posted. The intended recipient never found. Instead, it remains in a heart-shaped box on her granddaughter’s dresser.
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