Story a day: 6.8.16


I hope some day this letter reaches you. Forgive the stains on it. I hope you can read it through the smudges. My hands are never clean anymore. They’re always covered in soot and dirt and whatever we find in the mines.

I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again. How long did they say my sentence would last? I don’t remember and it feels like there is no time down here. Every day and every night are the same. We go to the mines while the sky is still gray and by the time we leave it is darker yet. If I had known, I may have savored rather than begrudged the march from the city.

I don’t know if they’ll let you have this, but they said I could write a letter. I have to believe it will reach you. You are the only light I have left in this place.


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