In the gutter, an envelope, sodden.

In the envelope, a confession, concealed:

I’m sorry

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:

a cemetery.

Kyrie eleison.**

Translations

*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.