I told myself that I wasn't waiting for it, but over spring break I found myself repeatedly checking to see if the mail had arrived yet each day. When the envelop finally came I was afraid to pick it up.
I could see the corner with the return address peeking out from under the bills and junk mail. I left it on the floor beneath the mail slot while I picked up the other mail, one envelop at a time. It was a slow striptease of lifting each envelop and then the next off of the light blue envelop with the Japanese return address.
Finally, all was revealed. Eying it carefully, I tried to determine at a distance what its contents might be. It was the same color of blue as the envelop I received when I was picked to be an alternate a couple of years back. It was larger than the rejection notices that I had received in the past.
I picked it up cautiously, feeling its weight in my palm, its thickness between my fingers. My heart was pounding as I carried it upstairs and used my letter opener to slowly open it. My hands shook as I read the opening line, "Dear Ms. King: It is a pleasure to inform you . . . . " I could barely breathe as I read the letter.
It was the middle of the day and I was home alone except for the dog, who was gazing at me with concern. "Ubu," I said as calmly as I could, "I'm going to Japan!"
1 comment:
Hurray!!!
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