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The letter arrives one autumn day in the lull of quiet between one crisis and the next. It’s out of place among the official correspondence with its neat handwriting spelling her name across the front and no return address. That shouldn’t be right. She doesn’t get many letters. She deals better with phone calls and all those close to her know it.
Riza glances around the empty office. It’s midday and everyone’s gone for lunch leaving her with some precious time alone. She drops the rest of the mail onto the appropriate desks, carrying quite a few into the General’s office, before she settles down at her own desk. She turns the envelope over looking for any signs of its origin. There are none.
She pulls the letter opener from her desk drawer. If one of the others were here, they’d open it with a knife. She’ll save her knife’s sharpness for more important matters. The paper inside is as devoid of clues as the envelope. The same unrecognizable handwriting decorates the paper and it’s opening lines cause her to frown.
Riza,
I had a dream that I could fly and in it I flew to you. I felt every moment that passed by bringing me closer to you until I was there in front of you. It’s a silly dream, right? But it got me thinking. Maybe it’s time I stopped hiding in the shadows. It’s been a while and you probably don’t even think of me too often. You’re busy in your new command, probably busy helping the General tackle one problem after another while keeping everyone in line.
She can almost see the smile in the words. The tone feels familiar but she can’t place who. There’s been plenty of changes in the past short while and it feels like years have gone by when it’s only been months. Numerous people have come in and out of her life whose faces she no longer remembers. Is this someone she only met recently? No, the words feel like this is someone who’s known her longer.
When we said goodbye, I never thought it would be our last goodbye. I never expected to leave your side and by this point, you’ve probably figured out who I am. If you haven’t, then I have to ask you, do you still believe in love?
Because I do. I still dream that one day love will fall out of the sky like you fell into my life. But this is about reality, not dreams. If you still believe in love, I’ll be waiting for you at the desert garden when the first rays of dusk grace the sky.
Riza glances at the bottom of the page looking for a signature but there is none. She didn’t expect any. If she wants to know who, she’ll first have to answer the question posed in the letter. Does she still believe in love?