#14

It had been sitting on her dresser for awhile now. Crumpled when she got it from the postman. Half of the envelope flap was ripped open before she even pulled it from her mailbox.
It stared at her, the flap still only half open. Already she had held it up to the light to see if any words would shine through. She peeked into the opening to see blue paper. The color of the sky on muggy summer mornings, tinged with a little git of gray- or silver- depending on how much the observer likes muggy summer mornings.
Some days, curiosity almost got the better of her. Slowly crossing the room she would pick it up, weigh it carefully from hand to hand. Once, she even had her index finger tucked under the fold. She felt the crease on her fingertip; rubbed it slowly, back and forth, till finally she shook her head and laid it safely back down.
Part of her already knew what it said inside, the rest of her didn't want to know. If it was certain, if she knew, if she read it for herself, what would then be left to live for?