In the gutter, an envelope, sodden.
In the envelope, a confession, concealed:
The author, pained for some evil:
superbia, avaritia, luxuria, invidia, gula, ira, acedia.*
The finder, empathetic:
Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.
The address, desolate:
*The seven deadly sins: pride, avarice, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, and sloth.
**Lord, have mercy
A Note from the Author
This is my first work of fiction of any length. It was inspired by the following prompt from Writing 101:
You stumble upon a random letter on the path. You read it. It affects you deeply, and you wish it could be returned to the person to which it’s addressed. Write a story about this encounter.
Today’s twist: Approach this post in as few words as possible.
Thoughts, comments, and especially constructive criticism are greatly appreciated.