Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: MAIL (02/18/16)
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TITLE: The Parcel | Previous Challenge Entry
By Kon Michailidis
02/25/16 -
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"Express delivery for Miss Sara Pidgeon. Sign here please."
She took the metal pen that was connected to a digital pad and scribbled her signature.
The courier snatched it away before she could finish it, thrust a parcel into her hand and disappeared down the hallway.
Sara turned it over to read the back. The sender was James, her 'beau', as she liked to call him.
She went back inside and slumped again in the armchair, trying to tear apart the tightly sealed package that would not yield to her frantic fingers. Eventually she managed to tear the outside. Inside there was a letter. Written on it was 'Read me first'. She opened it.
'My dearest Sara,
You did not reply to my email from two days. I was distraught. In fact I must admit that a kind of panic set in. A type that I have not experienced since my dog died. Forgive me my love, but I could not stop the train of disastrous thoughts that have flooded in since that day.
I saw a film about some isolated country towns in Peru recently. They did not have electricity or internet. What if that happened here? So I set about writing this letter. I know it will reach your home and you will open it. Letters are so wonderful. Did you know that they were the precursors of the novel? There is a whole literary genre of letter-writing. We have lost the art and its romance. I just read Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice" again. Did you notice how many letters there are in it? Do you remember the joy of receiving a personal letter? Even this one? But as I wrote, I remembered too that our postal service has now almost doubled the price of postage stamps and now delivers every second day instead of daily. They are doing this out of necessity because fewer people are writing. It is tolerable now, but how long will that last? I am sure it will not continue. The digital age will eventually lead to the demise of all letters sent by land.
My love, please now open the small box that arrived with this letter.'
Sara looked at the parcel and saw the small box. James had written with letters that covered the whole box 'Fragile. Be super careful.' She carefully unwrapped it and found two identical small white eggs. She estimated that they were four centimetres long and three centimetres wide. There was another letter with the box.
Dearest Sara,
I see that you have followed my instructions. The eggs in the box are pigeon eggs. As you just read, I came to a most depressing end thinking about communicating with you. If the internet is down, and letters are no longer being sent by land, we must return to pigeon post. These eggs have been laid by homing pigeons. They are bred from a line of birds that were used during the war. You must ring your local animal welfare agency who will be very pleased to teach you how to incubate them and nurture them to adulthood. When they are fully grown, I can come and pick them up and I will be able to send a message back to you wherever I am, whether there is mail or electricity or the internet.
Even bombs will not stop them. Isn't that wonderful? Nothing will stop us from receiving news about each other and sharing our hearts. I read that if I feed them and you do not, we can even train them to fly back and forth. We could then communicate as much as we want.
Of course, on the other hand, you could just answer my email.
I always remain your loving,
James.
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