The sweet breeze of autumn blew throughout Germany, kissing the falling leaves as if that would bring them back to life.s Gingerly, the wind played against the curtains of a certain window until gloved hands shut it tightly, the body they were attached to giving off a cross grunt. The figure then returned to the desk in the corner and sat down upon the available chair, fingertips gripping one of the many pens that could be found in a small mug.
Pale eyes scanned the piece of stationary before them. It was blank and pleaded to be stained by the black ink of the fountain pen. The tip of the writing implement was about to meet the paper, but the hand controlling it instantly pulled back.
"No," came a displeased contralto. "That would sound foolish."
Suddenly, the woman banged her fist against the small table, being sure not to crinkle the stationary. "Goddamn it! Only a foolish fool would have this much trouble writing such a foolish letter." Palm met forehead before she allowed her fingers to run through her short, blue-gray hair. As much as she thought the idea of writing the letter was a waste of time, something inside her left her glued to the seat.
The fountain pen soon hovered over the paper once more. Quickly, in elegant script, she wrote out the date, followed by the name of the recipient. "Dear Adrian Andrews," the line read.
Somehow, inspiration struck her, and her pen glided across the piece of stationary as she wrote. "I enjoyed reading the letter you previously sent me. I am glad to hear that all is well. I myself am doing decently in Germany. I have already been involved in prosecuting several cases, all of the defendants winding up with a guilty verdict. Overall, life has been kind to me."
As she wrote, her mind unexpectedly flashed to the last line of the letter she had received the day before: "I miss you." Her hand cramped in the middle of her sentence, and she immediately pulled it away before the ink leaked. The thought still baffled her; how the woman she had betrayed so badly pined for her presence, she would never be able to comprehend.
Her eyes slid closed, and her brow furrowed deeply. Would it have been acceptable for her to jot down how much she thought of the other and how culpable she felt about the entire ordeal they went through? After thinking for so long, her head began to hurt, and she decided to keep her letter simple. Heaving a sigh, she finished the previous sentence before beginning a new paragraph.
"It is pleasant to know that at least one person misses my company in the States." There was only slight hesitation as she added, "I miss you as well. Write back soon, as I will be expecting mail from you hereafter." She began to relax as soon as she punctuated the sentence. Her closing was signed gracefully:
"Sincerely yours, Franziska von Karma."