The Red-Inked Letter

Bill walked up to his front porch after a long day of work at the office. It was a day like any other day, the same boring routine. As he reached to turn the knob to his front door, he noticed an envelope with his name inscribed on the front of it. The penmanship was clearly feminine, written in a deep red ink. Curious, Bill thought to himself, that this envelope would be placed at the foot of his door instead of his mailbox. It was almost as if the sender didn’t want his wife of fifteen years to find it. Curious indeed.

Bill took the envelope and stuffed it in his pocket with the intention to read it later. He opened the door to his eager children and lovely wife - a perfect poster family.

“How was your day, honey?” his lovely wife asked.

“Just an ordinary day,” he replied. Except for the letter, but he would keep that to himself for now.

“Well I hope you found some source of excitement,” his lovely wife said. “Ordinary days can get dull.”

“I have all the excitement I need right here, with you,” Bill said reassuringly, feeling the compulsion to defend himself against the letters unknown contents.

The family sat down for dinner. Conversation progressed as any other day, while the red-inked letter remained impatiently in Bill’s pocket.

After the regular custom of dinner and a review of everyone’s day, Bill snuck off to the bathroom to read his red-inked letter. He sat on the toilet - lid down - and took out the metaphorically heavy piece of parchment. He opened it and proceeded to read a detailed scenario of himself and an excitable women engaging in a lustrous affair. Bill’s heart raced. He couldn’t have an affair. He loved his lovely wife. He loved his children. If his lovely wife ever found this forbidden piece of parchment, it would be the end of everything.

Bill rubbed his left shoulder. He read and reread the letter, trying to get some sort of clue as to who could have written such an erotic piece of literature.

Bill wiped the sweat from his brow. He folded the letter up, placed it back in the envelope of which it had come, and stuffed it in his pocket. He stood up and walked toward the door.

Bill clutched his chest as his knees gave out. He collapsed to the ground, confused to what was happening to body. He frantically grabbed at his chest, realizing that the loud racing of his heart had gone silent. Bill laid on his back, staring at the lights that grew ever brighter, until they had gone out completely.

Bill’s lovely wife, having heard a loud thud, ventured upstairs to see if her husband needed any assistance. She opened the bathroom door to see her now deceased husband laying on the cold tile of the bathroom floor. A shriek, followed by tears and hysterical breathing. Bill’s lovely wife called for an ambulance, but in her own heart, she knew that her dear husband was now gone. She looked at Bill, noticing his hand stuffed in his pocket. She reached in Bill’s pocket and withdrew an envelope, a red-inked envelope containing a letter she had written her dear husband, a letter to make an ordinary day exciting.