Letters

It begins to snow as Derek walks along the empty street. The snow reflected light makes it appear as though it is mid morning. He walks by a store with hockey sticks on display, like the ones Casey used to draw at the end of her letters. He wears only his leather jacket and all he can think is, why isn't it colder?

They were from different worlds. She ran with the dance club, school government and the environmental committee. He ran with the hockey team and weekend parties, in the way she moved during her dance routine as he watched from afar.

He saw her everyday on the way to class or in the lunchroom on campus. Still, he kept his word and avoided her and her friends. She gave him a conciliatory smile as they walked past each other. Always returning to their combative mode during the summer months spent back home. This ritual repeating itself over the years.

Still, it wasn't all bad.

In their second year, there was a party at her dorm. She introduced him to all her friends. She was so afraid he would flirt with them she spent the whole night by his side. She was impressed by his polite refusal to dance at each of her friends invitations, not realizing he was waiting for her to ask. Later that night he sat on the floor of her dorm room and they talked until she fell asleep. He could hear the faint sound of her breathing, and wondered if she would ever utter any word but 'friend.'

That winter after graduation he received her first letter. Hers were ornate and thoughtful with a great sense of excitement. "You can't believe how amazing New York is." "I wish you were here to see it, love my new apartment."

His, less cheery but strengthened with the longing and the encouragement that he would soon see her at the next family event. And drawings no longer present on her letters over the years, each taking longer to arrive until yesterday morning it's been two years. And the letter in his pocket, in her husband's hand, saying, "She would have wanted you here." And he's walking, lost in the maze of streets as snowflakes dance in front of him.