My Dearest Love

D: A love story, how sweet.

A: It is sweet, D. And one day I may actually get to tell the whole thing.

D: This story has been rambling about up here for a while – Evie and I are good chums. The second story is loosely based on your grandparents, yes?

A: Where are you going with this?

D: I’m just wondering about the third story.

A: It hasn’t happened yet. I’m working on it.

D: Will it have ghosts?

A: No, I think Evelyn and Samuel do that just fine.

D: What about vampires?

A: Nope, you skulk around for that well enough.

D: Then what?!

A: I’m waiting for me, dummy. Now shush; let people read the story!

The Community Storyboard

This is a germ of a novel I’ve had in my head for many years. When Ionia presented the Love Letters prompt, I knew it was a sign to put the ideas to paper: this is its first outing. Eventually, provided D leaves me be at some point, it will be an intertwining tale of three love stories told over great distances.

My Dearest Evelyn,

While war continues, I would not write of it. I would spare you the details of my daily horror.

When I write to you, it is to forget that I am far from you, far from your embrace. I wish that I had been brave enough to speak to your father and ask for your hand before this started. I have faced enough secesh as punishment for my fear, and I will speak to him.

* * *

Samuel,

Your words fill me with hope…

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5 thoughts on “My Dearest Love

  1. I am so glad you wrote this story. So, this was the house on the lake? And you had two ghosts, not just one. I love how you took the clues they gave you and wove it into a touching story. It might be just what they needed for release.

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  2. Thank you, Andra! This is the house on the lake. In addition to Evie and the soldier, there were many more ghosts – mostly upstairs and mostly children, although there was a nurse or someone who used to give me the heebie-jeebies at the head of the stairs! My mother suspects that the land we moved the house to may have been “haunted” as well – sort of like a gateway or focal point of some sort.

    I like to think that Evie was looking for someone to understand her – I believe she was an older woman when she died and she loved to have fun with all of us when we tried to contact her – I hope, wherever she is, that she likes the story!

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