photo by Mahdis Mousavi via Unsplash
I clutched the telegram in alarm, crumpling it, re-reading it, not believing it as the tears poured down my cheek spontaneously, drowning the world. I held the railing of the stairwell in front of my door for support, my eyes unseeing the postman making his way down the spiraling structure that mirrored my state of mind. They told me later that I was lucky to have survived the tumble of two stories; being ignorant of how utterly unfortunate I was.
Short story in response to Three Line Tales hosted by Sonya.
Some tidbits on telegram here.