Letters to the Stranger [BWWM]

Chapter 2 - Anonymous

Nate,

      I regret to inform you that your letter has made its way 

into the wrong mailbox. I am returning it to your possession

that it may be sent to the correct address.

  Thank you for your time.

~Anonymous~

   P.S. Against my better judgement, dare I ask how

is it that you've managed to adopt this method of

communicating in such a modern world?

-------

Nate sat on the chesterfield three-seat couch in the middle of the living room. The fireplace was lit. He had a hot cup of mint tea and some biscuits on the wooden coffee table beside him to calm the cool night. It had been a week since he'd sent a letter to his girlfriend, Dalia.

   His feet were off the soft multi-coloured rug that lay atop the mahogany floor. Instead, half his body occupied two-thirds of the seat. 

   Nate's eyes read fluently over the words of the letter that should have come from Dalia but instead, the name to the end of the letter wrote Anonymous. Apparently, the letter that he'd sent in hopes it would find Dalia in her humble abode had managed into someone else's mailbox. 

  Nate's face darkened in shock and anger. How had this happened?  The thought had crossed his mind countless times since he'd read and re-read the return letter. Who could be so hasty that they'd managed mixed up the address to the top of the letter? It wouldn't have been much of a bother had it not been for the contents of the letter.

   To know that another's eyes had read every meaningful word he'd written was enough to have the mailman turn in his resignation whoever he may be. Letters were personal much less for a love-letter. It was as though a stranger had seen his private thoughts.

    But try as he may, Nate couldn't blame the sender of the response. She, from the way the person wrote he could have guessed it was a woman, whoever she maybe did not intend to stumble upon the private letter.

    He had thought long and hard about sending an apology to the stranger though it had not been his error and he decided that he would. It was only right that he did. 

    Nate took a sip of his tea before he took a piece of paper, his feather-pen before he began his letter to Anonymous.

    This entire situation was silly! It was silly and that made him angrier the more he thought about it. Someone from the postal service would hear about this matter from him.

     The television had been mute in an attempt to concentrate. It now displayed soundless motion pictures catching the prey that was my lurking eyes.

    Cameras flashed within the four corners of the black box as two individuals linked by the arms. A woman and a man. The woman wore a long-sleeve shimmering pale golden dress that fell half-way up her thighs, a very high teal platform heels her hair was long and black like Dalia's.

   Taking a closer look, Nate recognised the butterfly tattoo that she had displayed for all eyes to venture on the mid-thigh of her left leg. Gulping back his anger, he soon realised that it was in fact Dalia whose hands were draped on a gentleman he didn't know.

    Was Dalia out of her mind? That would seem a fitting excuse seeing as her hands were all over the guy's body like feathers on the glue.

    It was one thing to be in the company of a strange man on the red carpet but it was a whole other story when her hands wouldn't leave his body and all of it was caught on tape. Nate was sure that the entire viewing audience would see it. It was utter disrespect and his mother would berate him for as a result.

    His mother had never liked Dalia from the beginning but though we had established open lines of communication our perspectives weren't the same.

   Nate loved and respected his mother but she would have to learn how to respect any woman he may introduce to his parents as a companion. When he had done so Noelle Blackwood, his mother, had commented on Dalia's attire and everything else. She had succeeded in intimidating Dalia. She had been wary about meeting his parents and Nate had finally convinced her to come with him and his mother had simply undone four days of coaxing in the meagre space of twenty-five minutes.

    Now looking at the screen, Nate couldn't help but wonder if his mother had seen something he hadn't.

    He took the remote and clicked the power button relief flooding him as he did. His eyes settled on the opened letter that sat on the table beside him. An urge suddenly took over to write another to Anonymous. It was harmless and he was chancing that she would reply.