Memories Letter Novels & Stories

"Mémé? You home?" A note on the table in my grandmother's loopy scrawl tells me she's run to the store, so I pick up the mail, pulling out the large manila envelope with no return address. I pry the flap with my thumb and rip it open. A thick packet of papers emerged, with a typwritten cover letter. Ohh..fuck. My heart stops beating.

I hope you do, because I would love to attend it with you. Okay, this letter is getting way longer than I intended. I am going to wrap it up now, because I know I’m going to be seeing or actually talking to you soon, anyway. All my best, Twinkle Toes ********** I had to fight back against the tightness in my chest as I finished the letter. The wave of nostalgia that hit me while reading was unexpected and almost overwhelming. I remembered the same anticipation of waiting for her letters, the same problem of remembering something important I NEEDED to tell her and rushing to get it into my most recent letter before I sent it off.

Nothing special, no extra effort put into penning the message, but the content of the letter pays for the lack of effort a dozen times over. I repeat the words again in my mind like I'm memorizing a recital, then again, slower this time. My nose heats up like I were some silly schoolgirl who just got a love letter from her crush. Although this one's from Marco. It's the sixth he's sent so far, one for each day—each day since he left without saying a word. It reminds me of a certain other someone, but my emotional response isn't quite the same. I honestly didn't notice he was gone until the first letter arrived the following day. It was written a bit differently, and when it came, I stared so

Aunt Jess said, “A letter from your mother.” I took the envelope with trembling hands, frankly, I have blurred memories of my mother. I know her, and I know that I love her. I just don’t seem to have a lot of memories of her. I opened the letter and started to read it. ****** My Dearest Son, Drake. If you’re reading this it just meant that you have met your Luna, who is no other than Athena. It also meant that one by one all the memories of her that you have and that I have locked in small chests inside your head will soon be opened.

Compared to other kids his age, Golden wasn't exactly normal because he belonged to a rare group of people that can retain memories from before they were born, in other words, memories of their past lives. In fact, Golden barely qualified as a member of that group because compared to others with the same condition, he remembered only a little bit, while the others retained the memories of all their past lives or almost all of it. Furthermore, his inherited knowledge of his past life was mostly miscellaneous, not very useful.

Keshaun interrupted giving Royal an annoyed look. “Why would you do that?” she rounded the counter furiously. “Because it’s a hard burden for one man to bear on his own, to know these things.” He stared down at her grimly, “you did not need to send them back to me and tell me to read them. My memory is forever tarnished.” “Not my problem. His letters were the equivalent of a teenager writing in her diary. None of them were ever meant for my eyes. If I had to see them, so did you. Misery likes company, chump.”

Personally, I don't care how I go as long as you are with me. You might think that one’s memories will stay forever, they say, yet my memory seems to fade even more every day. The thing that is slipping me the most is the beauty of your face. Those sparkling brown eyes that see clearly beyond my soul. Your perfect head of messed up air. Your soft, supple lips that curl into the most desirable smile. I have not seen it for so long; I fear that the memory might not last for too much longer. My beloved, I won't waste this letter praying endlessly for you to come. Instead, I will use this as an opportunity to tell you some of the things I do miss.

"You don't know that." He told me, plus I saw it in his eyes, that he just wanted you to remember that's all. You alright now? " "Yeah, I'm OK." "Great, now that was one heck of a letter, and wow, what a memorising job well done." "Thank you, Loretta." So Matt, now you've heard the contents of the letter, and you know why I didn't show it to you, It is time to do your part of the deal. "

I took in his deep sandalwood scent before penning my goodbye letter. "Dear Lucien, By the time you see this letter, I would have already been gone. The truth is, well I remember. I remember everything. I remember stumbling in your arms a year ago. I remember you saving me and every day we spent together that made us fall in love.

### The Echo of Memorie### *I’ve enclosed something with this letter,* Henry had written. *Something I want you to keep, no matter what happens. It’s a piece of me, a reminder of our love, and of the life we dreamed of together. Keep it safe, and know that no matter where I am, a part of me will always be with you.* Claire’s hands trembled as she finished reading the letter. Her mind raced with questions—what had Henry enclosed? Had her grandmother kept it? And if so, where was it now?