wow its been awhile since ive used my ff account. for that i apologize. the struggles of junior year are ever-present. i wrote this for creative writing and i liked it quite a lot so i figured id publish it here. dedicated to all my favorites. they know who they are and how much i love them.
enjoy and please review!
across the sea
My Dear,
I miss you. Plain and simple. It's so silly, selfish of me to say so. But it's simply the truth.
I hope you aren't too cold. It's getting cold here. The furnace sometimes makes strange noises, like it might unhinge its screws from the ground and swallow me up at any moment. Maybe I'm being dramatic, but that's what it sounds like. I swear. I know you'd fix it if you were here. It'll be waiting for you when you get back. So will I.
All my loving,
Rachel
Sweetheart,
I miss you too. Of course I do. It's a given. Nobody in my trench can make lemon squares as good as yours. Not that I've had any since I've left home, but nonetheless, I miss those too. Mostly, it's just you. Have Mike, the super, take a look at the furnace. Don't wait for me to come around and fix it. I don't want you getting cold without me, Sugar.
Forever Yours,
Finn
My Dear,
The neighbors got a telephone! I haven't the slightest idea how they can afford one, but lo and behold. Quinn knocked on our door the very next day after installation with little Beth in her arms. The both of them were esatic. She was just so excited. Maybe we can get one someday. Wouldn't that be nice?
All my loving,
Rachel
Sweetheart,
I would love if we were to have a telephone one day. Although, who would we call?
Missing you more than ever.
Forever yours,
Finn
My Dear,
Why, other people with telephones, of course.
I took my wedding ring to the jeweler's the other day, and I've just now picked it up. I didn't even take my coat off before sitting down to write to you. The man behind the counter asked why my husband's ring wasn't polished along with my own. I told him where you are and what you're doing. He shook his head, give me a sad smile, and his eyes were filled with pity. Right to the top. I didn't like that at all. Not one bit. I don't need pity or sad smiles. I don't need them because you'll be home soon. Before we both know it, and it'll be as if you never left. This Great War will end, and you'll come home. Back where you belong with me.
All my loving,
Rachel
P.S. Oh, I forgot to mention it, but don't let your ring get too dirty now.
Sweetheart,
The man behind the counter is a fool. A damn fool. Everything will be back to the way it was soon. It will. This is one thing I can promise you.
My friend, Tom-I might have mentioned him before, I can't recall- but anyway, Tom got shot. He raised his hand above the trench late one night, when nearly everyone was fast asleep, and one of those bastards up and shot him in the hand.
Now, Tom is going home. He has a wife too, you know, like me, and a kid as well. Told me he missed 'em too much to carry on.
He did that on purpose, Rach. He's a coward. I miss you, I miss you so much, but I think it's important to stay and fight. For you and me and every other Joe Blow and not to mention the children we're going to have one day in the future.
Tom's a coward, and it makes me so... angry that he did that. He's a coward, and the United States doesn't need people like that fighting. That's not who Uncle Sam was asking for when he said "I Want You."
Besides, I'll be home before we both know it, so even if I'm a little scared, I'm not a coward.
Forever yours,
Finn
My Dear,
That is simply terrible. What a terrible, horrible, awful thing to do. I don't think I like Tom very much. Maybe not even at all.
Head up, Buttercup. It'll all be over before you know it. I promise.
All my loving,
Rachel
My Dear,
It's been awhile since you've written, and although I'm finding that fact terribly bothersome, I figured I may as well write you again. I am a feminist after all. I'm sure you're just so busy and can't find the time to write to your wife. That must be it. It must.
Besides, I've just read in the papers that Germany has asked the Allies for an armistice. While I didn't understand what that meant at first, it looked so much like a foreign language; I could hardly believe it, I talked to Mike the super. We're quite good friends nowadays, and his wife, Tina, is quite lovely as well. I get along with them quite swimmingly. You would too. I'll bake him cookies or lemon squares, and we'll just sit and talk about commonplace things. It's nice, even though it's no secret that I'd much rather your company than his. It passes the time, doesn't make me feel so terribly lonely.
Anyway, Mike. He explained to me what an armistice is and why it's such a good thing. He says the end of the war is closer than ever before. Which is so nice because I miss you more than ever before. In fact, I miss you more tonight. He says that if everything goes according to plan, you should be home in a few months at the very latest. I hate that word. If. I'm sure I don't need to tell you, but I'm hoping and praying that everything goes according to plan. Especially since in a mere matter of months, baby will finally make three.
All my loving,
Rachel
Mrs. Hudson:
It is with the deepest regret that I must inform you that your husband,
S/Sgt. FINN CHRISTOPHER HUDSON, 31153044, a member of my squadron has been missing
in action over enemy Occupied Europe since the mission of 28 September 1919.
Words cannot express the feelings of the squadron over the absence of
your husband, since he was a very popular member of this organization. We are
proud to be able to say we were comrades-in-arms with him. We shall always
consider him a member of our squadron.
We would appreciate receiving from you any news you may receive from
him. All of us sincerely hope that you will be reunited with him in the very
near future.
Sincerely Yours;
Major William Schuester
My Dear,
You'll never get this letter. This, I know, but Quinn suggested that I write to you anyway. Tina promptly agreed. I wouldn't even know where to send it to, so this is fruitless, but at this point, I'd do anything to feel better. I miss you. Terribly so. I never knew it was possible to miss someone this much. Apparently, I greatly underestimated myself, which you know hardly ever happens. All I ask is that you come home to me soon. I hope to God you aren't bruised and battered, damaged with scars of war, but I wouldn't even mind that if you were to come home. This, with me, is where you belong. Not who-knows-where doing who-knows-what. I haven't slept a wink since I got the letter from your Major a week or so ago. It's bad for the baby, I know that's what you'd say if you were here.
But you're not. So, what else am I to do? How can I possibly close my eyes and rest without knowing where you are and if you're okay?
Come back to me, Finn. Please, come back to me.
Please.
All my loving,
Rachel
Sweetheart,
I know it's been awhile since you've heard from me, I can only hope you aren't too worried, but I was unable to write for an extended period of time. One of the horrors of war, I suppose.
Here I sit, in a cute little cafe that I know you'd just love, writing to you while a newspaper with the headline The Armistice At Last rests under a cup of coffee. Not as good as yours, of course. Once I've finished this letter and my coffee, I'm dropping it in the nearest mailbox, the letter not the coffee, and I'm coming home.
I'm coming home, baby.
Forever yours,
Finn
i know that not all of this is historically accurate and wouldn't their letters be longer, why was finn mia, and blah blah blah. the short letters seemed more romantic to me and i know i know i know the logistics are rough at places but whatever. i tried.
hope you liked it!