BEFORE THE LETTERS STOPPED
ALM No.94, October 2026
SHORT STORIES
In room 319, Fran was waiting for the next round of medication before bedtime. With shaking fingers, she gripped the picture of the waterfall, a black and white photo, corners bent and framed in old brass. Fran gently placed the frame on the nightstand beside her bed once again.
Sarah came into Fran’s room and tried to move the photo and Fran cried out.
“Careful, do not drop him!”
Sarah was exhausted and overworked, her hair was in a bun that looked like a child did it for her, she had bags under her eyes, and they were quite black from lack of sleep. Sarah loved her job as a medication tech, but this woman was a completely different story. The old woman’s outburst irritated her. With a soft voice, she assured Fran that she would not drop him, whatever the old woman meant by that. This picture thing had become a routine affair. Having worked at Harmony Assisted Living for nearly four months, Sarah tried to avoid Fran at all costs.
The following night Sarah avoided room 319 like a plague. She thought to herself “why does this old woman have to be so pushy.” Sarah, knowing Fran would have another outburst about this photo, told herself, to be calm before walking in the room; she moved the picture towards the back of the nightstand with practiced ease.
“Careful. Don’t drop him!” Fran said, again although this time her voice was louder. Sarah of course was ready for this, and again she softly assured Fran she would be careful. However, Sarah’s curiosity got the best of her and asked
“What is so important about this picture?” She asked Fran.
Fran grabbed the picture with trembling hands
“That was before the letters stopped coming.”
Sarah furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Letters?”
Fran looked up and nodded her head. Fran took a few deep breathes and told Sarah,
“My husband wrote me a letter every week after he was deployed for the war.”
“War?”
“Yes, dear, World War II.”
Sarah asked if she could sit on the edge of the bed. Fran nodded. Not realizing it, Sarah leaned in a bit closer to Fran. His name was Thomas; Fran smiled to herself over her memory of the most handsome man she had ever met. Sarah noticed Fran smile and thought, this is the first time I have seen her smile.
Sarah allowed Fran to continue with more patience and more curiosity than before. However, Sarah readjusted herself on the bed, realizing she was feeling a little nausea but not wanting to leave.
The letters he would write every week made me feel like he was there in the room. Fran traced the frame with her thumb, and with a slight chuckle recalled a joke he once wrote to her. Fran looked up, “Thomas, wrote me a joke, and said that all these men smell horrible compared to your smell under that waterfall, in fact a scent I will never forget.”
Fran looked past Sarah for a moment remembering the waterfall.
Sarah asked,
“Fran? Are you okay?”
“Yes, I am fine, I just remember the waterfall like it was yesterday, Thomas pulled me close and told me he was the happiest man alive because I married him.”,
“I was 17 years old when we became married, Thomas was 20. Our honeymoon was perfect; it was something I could have dreamt about.”
“Thomas knew that waterfalls captivated me, he chose the most beautiful waterfall imaginable. “We were the only people there and he gently pushed me under the waterfall, and he grabbed that camera he brought with him and took the picture of me that you have been looking at,” Sarah, looked closer at the photo and said with an excited shriek, “Fran, that was you?”
Fran chuckled and replied, “Yes, dear I haven’t always been 85.”
Thomas would twirl me, and he did this great dance for me with a tease. He danced like Elvis Presley did. An interesting fellow he was, Elvis that is, but nothing like my Thomas. I thought it was the best dance anyone could have done. I laughed more than I had ever laughed in my life that night. The weather was perfect; the smell was like a garden of roses. Little did I know that while I was in the lady’s room, he had placed rose buds all over the entire room.
When I emerged in the doorway, Thomas came up to me and took me to the bed and gently placed me down in front of him. He bent down and held me in his tight embrace. He kissed me like he would never be able to do it again. I now know that the war had been in his mind. But it was something that he was able to take out of his focus due to his joy of our marriage. I will never forget the last night at the waterfall. We slept outside while stargazing. He was holding me tightly to his side. He said, “Fran, I will write to you every week. I promise.” I knew he would keep his promise; we talked about having a family when he returned, and talked about the house we would live in. Truly, when he talked about the war it sent shivers through my body.
“When we returned to our studio apartment, Thomas finished his packing due to the stupid draft notice he had received before our marriage. He tried to stay upbeat, but I knew he was doing it for my sake. Thomas got into bed with me and held me tight while promising he would write letters to me and he would not stop. I knew this was our last night together and I tried to make the best out of it.”
Fran noticed Sarah turn her head away, with tears flowing down her cheeks.
“Sarah? Do you want me to stop?” Fran asked,
“No, Fran please continue, I am okay. “Sarah touched Fran’s arm, gently urging her to continue.
Fran, then told her how the next day was a very hard one in fact. Thomas held me tight while the train whistle blared in our ears and came to a screeching halt in front of us. There were several newlywed couples waiting for the train as well, and the unmarried men rushed past Thomas and I. Thomas quickly grabbed me and with a kiss, he turned and leapt onto the train. I stayed stuck to our spot left with shock and sadness I cried while waving to my beloved until the train was no longer in my sight.
As promised, I received a letter every week. I waited for the post knowing that I would have a long letter from my husband. I looked forward to these letters while being able to breathe a sigh of relief knowing he was still alive. I would read each letter several times a day. I tried to pick up the scent of my husband, as I read it again before going to bed. I would put the letters under my pillow so I could feel closer and not so alone, knowing he is still with me.
“A few weeks pass, and I am becoming more accustomed to living alone for the first time in my life. Thomas would send me some money in each of his letters. I would write back to him, and I even sprayed my letters with his favorite perfume I owned. He would write how lovely my penned letters smelled and how he would hold them close, of course reminding me how I smelled better than all those men.” Fran chuckled to herself again at the thought of all those sweaty men, and her delicate perfume.
And interestingly, one night I became nauseas and threw up on my favorite biscuits, I did not understand what had happened, but thinking through this I realized I had been feeling nauseous for 3 to 4 days. I made an appointment with my doctor. They told me “Fran. You are going to be okay, you are pregnant.”
“Pregnant! No, I couldn’t be.” The thought hit her like a ton of bricks, the waterfall.
I now know I had become pregnant on my honeymoon. At first all I could do was cry, it took me about an hour before I could leave the doctor’s office because the tears would not stop. Then a thought occurred to me, Thomas and I talked about having a family and now he is ever closer to me. I am carrying his child.
I would tell the baby, “Every letter I get from daddy, I will it to you.”
At this point, Sarah has forgotten the time, as the tears began to fall down her face again. She was now frustrated and thought to herself, I am so sick of crying so easily.
Fran paused for a quick moment, catching her thoughts, then continued about how her belly was growing when I read the notes from Thomas the baby would kick and move around. In fact, the first kick was when I had read that week’s letter out loud to her growing baby boy, I recall standing at the mailbox waiting for the weeks letter when a car pulls up in my driveway. Immediately, I knew who they were. They were military officers. They walked up to me, and I tried to steady myself and I grabbed a hold of my now large belly and tears flowed and covered my face. The officers helped me back into the house. One of the officers approached me a little closer and spoke “Fran Witthold?” “Yes?” “He died helping men escape.” Sarah covered her mouth, tears becoming flowing waterfalls. “Fran how did you do that alone?”
Fran motioned towards the picture and said, “Take the picture and pull the back off of it.”
Sarah did so, and when she opened the back careful so she wouldn’t break the old frame, letters fell onto her lap. The ones from Thomas. They were worn and tattered from old age.
Fran exclaimed “I have always had Thomas with me; I was never alone. Thomas Junior framed this photo for me, and I have always had hope because I have the waterfall in my memory.”
Sarah sat back for a moment, then helped Fran put the letters back into the frame. Sarah now looked at the aged woman with a different light she no longer wanting nothing to do with her. Sarah looked down at her watch and realized she was supposed to have clocked out 3 hours ago.
“Fran, thank you so much for sharing your story with me, I will never forget it. I will see you tomorrow night.”
Sarah looked down at Fran, and hugged her gently “Good night, Fran.”
The next night Sarah came into work at the usual time, and she had a letter on her med cart that read room 319 was empty. With a quickness she asked around, and found the charge nurse- “Why is room 319 empty?”
The charge nurse replied casually “Fran Whitthold died last night in her sleep.”
Sarah ran out of the building while screaming “NO!”
Sarah grabbed her growing belly and threw up. After cleaning herself off she, walked back into the building and walked to room 319, she looked around the room and found the picture of the waterfall on the bedside table. Sarah carefully picked up the picture and walked. Sarah knew Fran was at this waterfall with Thomas at this very moment.
Sarah left room 319 and found the on-charge nurse, “I am giving you notice tonight, I quit.”
Sarah drove home carrying the picture of the waterfall. When she arrived, she gently placed it on her dresser. As she did, Dustin’s deployment letter slipped from beneath the stack of mail. Her heart sank. She stared at the envelope for several moments before finally picking it up, one trembling hand resting on her growing belly. She looked from the letter to the picture. The waterfall no longer reminded her of loss. It reminded her that love could outlast distance, fear, and even war.
Sarah rested her hand over her pregnant belly and whispered, “If Fran could carry hope through the waiting… then so can I. I’ll keep believing, just like Fran did.”
Vera Channell is currently a student at Full Sail University, working toward a bachelor’s degree in creative writing. She is 46 years old, married, and has four adult children. Vera enjoys writing blogs, listening to music, and creative writing.
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