Letters From No One

The envelope fluttered under the lid of the mailbox, the words scrawled across the front were simple.

To You.

There was a sudden flash of light and the wind riffled the envelope again. There was a sudden moment where everything seemed to stop, the air didn't stir, the very surroundings seemed to stand still for an instant and then as if it had never happened everything began to move again. A woman stood only a few feet in front of the doorstep. The man watching through the curtains never saw her approach or even where she came from, but there she stood, staring at the door.

For a moment he thought she was wearing a dress until he saw the emerald cloak and the boots that were visible beneath it. The shadow he'd assumed came from the tree behind her proved to be an overside hat with an enormous feather in the band rested on her head. He almost thought that the late hour was beginning to get to him until, after rubbing his eyes she still stood there.

For a moment she stood there, watching the door, until finally she started toward the door and pushed her cloak back. The clothes underneath were blocked by the hedge as she reached the front step, extending her hand toward the mailbox and drawing the letter from it.

He moved as quickly as he could, racing from the window to the front door and throwing it wide in hopes of catching the odd looking woman before she could vanish into the night again. The doorstep was empty, and there was no evidence of her ever being there other then the open lid of the mailbox, a thick sheath of paper rolled and set inside.

He took it without question. While it was nearly three times thicker then the longest letter he'd gotten before then, he knew that it contained something he wanted to read, something he needed to know. The front page was a letter addressed to him.

My dearest Mr. Barrie,

I remember you once said that inspiration comes in the strangest of forms, that the letters I began to leave you so long ago had inspired you to write a book and give my nameless friends true Christian names. I thank you for that. I have found a copy of this book, Wendy, that is a lovely name, I thank you for bestowing it to the girl whom I inspired.

I must admit however you make my dear one handed Captain Hook into an unfeeling man, and that he never has been. Cold, ruthless, full of anger, but never unfeeling. Never without compassion. His single minded quest was never explained to you in full I fear, and therefore you seem to think that he and his boy counterpart are without justification in their feelings. In fact I see that both the captain and the boy, your Peter, have more then justified themselves on both sides.

Would you like to know the story my dear friend?

Would you like to hear a horror beyond the words a woman may posses? An adventure that shakes the bones and stirs the soul? A truth more unimaginable then the amazing fiction you have wrought?

He reread the sentences again, would he like to? He would risk his own eyes to read the story she promoted so eloquently, the story he knew waited on the pages behind the letter he now read.

I was right to leave my letters with you mister Barrie.

- Your Wendy Lady

He lifted the top page and set it on the small table near the door, closing the heavy oak front door without any thought as he read that first line.

To begin a story one must always have a beginning, without which there is no hope of ever reaching an end...