Great posting even if it was pretty sad.

Hi Christina!

Your readers can enjoy Keely's "Letter of Love" because your story contains events which provoke relatable imagery and you have both Keely and Phil remaining in character we can recognize.

Keely's contribution to the story is stronger - not because she talks more (we expect that), because Phil's is so weak - not only because he narrates less, but perhaps because he shares at all. This story would be made stronger by either deleting Phil's thoughts or expanding upon his feelings. You've shown us how Miss Teslow feels (Sorry. "Mrs. Jason's Wife") and her instructions (her orders bossing him around from the grave, actually) to Phil on how to live his life, and if you hadn't portrayed Phil as reading her message, her letter could have stood upon its own.

In providing us with the insight to Phil's thinking, his hoping for Keely to walk in on him reading her note from the past, you've dropped the first shoe. By depriving readers of Phil's reaction after reading what she has to say, the story leaves us hanging, waiting for the other shoe to drop. This presents not the bitter-sweet flavor you advertised, but an angsty one. Now, angst can be interpreted as being bitter, but where's the sugar, Christina? It's on the tongue of the other shoe.

- Phil stared at her letter one last time before refolding it and tucking the note into his left breast pocket. He knew full well that if he held it a moment longer, his clenched fist would have crushed the scrap of paper. Phil blamed himself. Keely's whims had been over indulged while he was in the past - his doing; no one else's. Rarely denied her wishes being granted, she had been made bold in thinking she had the power to tell him how to live his own life. Well, he'd show her.

She promised her love belonged to him? Well, time to put that to the test! He didn't knock. He just opened the door to her room and walked in as if he was her Jason.

"Keely," he announced.

Before him was the ancient version of Keely, just ending the letter he had read time and time before. She looked in his direction, removed her reading glasses, then reached for her really thick glasses.

"Phil? I … Phil - Diffy?"

Keely was right; her mind really wasn't going south. It made sense that it took her a few moments to comprehend that it was actually her Phil, the one she had just written to. Here in her room was an old man she had never met, sporting wrinkles, age spots and just what little hair he still had was white.

Getting physical beyond a token kiss by thin worn out lips was life threatening at this stage of their lives, so instead they talked and talked. She learned that he had followed her instructions as Phil shared the story of his life without her, and she became the same young girl who once listened wide-eyed to the stories from a boy from the future. Aged no longer mattered as Phil and Keely, friends forever then and now, told one another the best tales of their being apart for the time they had left. As great as their lives had been - and they had both enjoyed happy lives - these best friends never spoke of their greatest sorrow, that they had lived their lives without even trying to be faithful to their memory, and that they now would be forever denied memories of a lifetime shared. -

Bittter-sweet without being totally angsty. As with all art, writers try to engage their readers, make them feel something, and maybe even nudge them to think. What good did finally being back together do for Keely and Phil if the last moments of their lives had their hearts only filled with unspoken regret?

Hope you have more Phil of the Future gems in store of us soon, Christina.

Best
CraftyNotepad
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