Retirement left us with time to go on long walks. The bridge over the James was a particular favorite, a good climb for the cardio. At the top, my wife saw an envelope caught in the railing, flapping gently.
I pulled it out, opened it, removed the letter. I read another’s life. Schizophrenia. Love. Marriage. Kids. Divorce. Abandonment. Drugs. Loneliness. Desperation. An ending sought.
I pulled out my cell, dialed the office. “Hi, Chief.”
“Hey! How are you? How’s retirement?”
“Fine. Sort of. Someone jumped.”
“What? What did you see?”
“Nothing. Everything. A letter.”