Dear Matthew,
Mrs. Smith brought over a mince pie this morning. She's the sweetest woman, but I couldn't eat a bite of it. I haven't been able to eat anything but peaches all week. Well, I've refused to eat anything else.
Today was the first day I've gotten out of bed. I don't have the energy to do anything anymore.
Dust is gathering around the picture frames on our mantle and on that old Persian rug you traded for my best cooking pot, and moths have been eating away at the curtains because there is no one to shake them out or open the windows.
The sun is spilling warmly through the kitchen window, dousing the table with a pale yellow glow. The dust dances in the sun, spinning and billowing on imperceptible gusts of wind slipping through the cracks in the shutters. I think I may be going slightly mad, because I want to join them. They are so light, untroubled; the ground and the sadness do not hold them down as they do for me.
I don't think I can continue to live in this world without you.
Do you miss me as much as I miss you?
Come back.
Adeline
CITEȘTI
Dear Matthew
IstoriceAdeline Brown discovers that her husband, who has just been sent off to fight for the ANZACS in Gallipoli, has been killed in battle. She continues to write letters to him as she processes her grief and tries to live on without him as her house and...
