Folded up and placed away. The note began to fade as the years went by. Moving from book to book, placed higher and higher on the shelf until it made it’s way to the attic. Now dead and gone, relatives search for valuables and vital documents. Rustling in the dark, the note waits to be picked up, to be read once again. Finally little hands grasp it, crunchy and smashing. Till the words begin to tear. “What is that in your hands? Throw that away! It’s garbage!” The note is tossed in a garbage bin full of moldy doilies and romance paper backs.
Thank you for taking time out of your day to read my writing! I hope you will return in the future!