Opened
On the night shift you brought me tea in a paper cup, and told me your home was the islands named after a Spanish king.
Grace, my mother died at ten past four in the morning, and you were the one holding her other hand.
Looking through the drawer…
One sealed letter is waiting for Grace.
On the night shift you brought me tea in a paper cup, and told me your home was the islands named after a Spanish king.
Grace, my mother died at ten past four in the morning, and you were the one holding her other hand.
The rest of this letter is sealed.