Delivered

I wrote this piece back in 2010, it's not one of my best pieces, but I'm willing to share it.

A piece of blank paper sits on a brown, rusty old table.

Waiting for the old man to write something down. 

Waiting to be sent out into the world be read by someone else.

I now sit in the mail room waiting and waiting for days at a time. 

I wait to be picked up and delivered to the new stranger. 

I'm not a package, I am a letter. 

Though I am not to be considered to be a happy one..I bring the sad news of my owner's death.

I used to wait for the old man to start writing again, but following days he slowed down and didn't write as               much. 

One day all together he just...stopped..never wrote again..that is when I knew something was wrong. 

You see, I don't deliver good news to anyone, I deliver the bad news...because someone has to do it.