“The truth is, unless you let go, unless you forgive yourself, unless you forgive the situation, unless you realize that the situation is over, you cannot move forward.”

                                                                                        – Steve Maraboli

August 27, 1914

Dear beloved Agatha,

I’m currently near Prussia as I write this letter to you. Rations that the company gives out here doesn’t taste appetizing but it is better than to work on an empty stomach or I might just faint in the middle of the field, I jest but I do miss your stew. Gunfire has deafen my ears, it’s the only kind of music I could listen to right now. I hope can come home soon, your voice would be such luxury to hear. I miss home, but I miss you the most.

When all of this is over would you like for me to get you a souvenir? I heard their shoes here are nice, I’ll buy a pair for you just in case. When I come home lets go to the fair, we never got to last time before I left. I’m still keeping that promise I’ll win you that stuffed rabbit. I swear on my badly sold books. That was a boring joke, But I hope it made you smile. I really do miss you Agatha I want to write more but it would just make me more home sick than I already am, and ink and paper is getting more expensive too. But I still write more letters, prices bloating up won’t stop me that easy. Hopefully just one more march and I’ll be home to you, Wait for me Agatha.

Hope to come home to you soon my love

From your loving Husband,

Ellis Hill Murray

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Bangor, Gwynedd Wales,  United Kingdom

I paced back and forth on the balcony aimlessly staring at the post box perched at front on the yard. As usual it’s a cold spring morning, my anxiousness not resting. Ellis’ cuckoo clock sung as the clock struck 10 I peered over the yard and on que the elderly postman came by.

“Good Morning! Is?” I didn’t finish my sentence as he gave an apologetic look and shook his head. My heart sunk my anxiousness replaced by melancholy. I held my head and massaged my temples, letting out a shallow sigh, I bite my lip to calm myself. “Ellis what are you doing, I miss you” I whispered under my breathe. It has been months since he sent his last letter, I can’t help but worry especially when he is sent to war.

A small knock of wood sounded, it caught my attention I look up the post man was still there.

“Mrs. Murray, if it makes you feel better. The Cinema is playing some films taken from Prussia” his gruff raspy voice said carefully.

I appreciated the gesture, it did gave me a little hope “Do you think they filmed Ellis?” I said hopeful, the old man smiled at me “ Ofcourse he’ll be there Mrs. Murray” he reassured me before tipping his hat and waved good bye walking off to his next delivery.

I took a step in to the house then a tug in my mind told me I forgot something. “I have to get the mail silly me” . I walked down the yard and opened the mail box getting a stack of mail full of either bills or advertisements as usual, like the postman said “no mail from Ellis”. I kept shuffling through the mail until one letter caught my interest, I looked at it carefully and my eyes widen my body warping in both fear and anxiousness. It was a letter from the Military.

I rushed back into the house, took the knife and hurriedly opened the letter. My hands couldn’t stop shaking, I’m afraid, terrified of what news I would receive. As I unfolded the piece of paper my eyes ran through the words. My world stopped as I made an infernal scream, I dropped on the floor my tears unable to stop pouring out as my heart felt like it was being stabbed repeatedly as I discovered the news. I can’t take this, It isn’t true.

“I still have to watch the film, he’s alive he’s in the film” I kept on denying as I kept on screaming.

It isn’t true that my husband, Ellis is Dead.