My Beloved

By November 16, 2015 Postcard Vignettes
ymca post office johnstown

I just kept thinking about her.

Even though we’d met just months before, and even though we’re now in the same town, we might as well be worlds away.

The work at the glove factory is monotonous and tiring and hot. Day in, day out, cutting the gloves and then transporting them to the homes of the women who do the sewing is taking its toll.

And I’m getting bored staying at the Y.M.C.A.

I’d come from a nearby town with the hopes of finding a good steady-paying job, but this is not what I’d imagined.

Living in a dorm. Waking up at dawn. Working well into the evening. And never seeing my beloved Florence.

What would she think of me calling her my beloved? Does she think of me the same way?

We’d had a wonderful time at the picnic. We’d danced and laughed at the fair. But that was before I’d packed up and moved to Johnstown. I’d told myself it was for work, but really, it was for her.

I’m not sure when the idea of writing her a postcard struck my mind, but when I saw this one of the very building I’m staying in, it seemed like fate.

Would she find my message too cheeky? Would she even know who wrote it? Would she realize this is where I’m staying?

No more thinking. I lick the stamp, press it firmly to the postcard and, with the post office just downstairs, make haste to send it off to my beloved.

ymca post office johnstown
ymca post office johnstown back

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