After all these years, a

After all these years, a letter arrived. It's been at least 4 years since I've had any contact, and many more years since any written contact. There is an eagerness to open it, and yet a reluctance to do so. I'm surprised. I didn't expect any response at all to that letter I sent out way back in June. I should rephrase that. When I didn't get a response back after a month, I figured that either it never got there or that it got there and it was tossed away. Either way, I accepted the lack of response as a finale, a closing point. But it's here. On my table. Next to me. Unopened. Cary Grant stares at me, the postmarks creating waves across his face. I need to open it. I need to know what the letter contains.