It started with a word in my hands. One grew to two. Two increased to ten, and fifty proliferated to six thousand. I pressed them all in my fists. They felt good in my hands. They felt good with me.
The Conductor tapped on my carriage’s door. My trembling hands tightened their grasp, turning my knuckles white. The Conductor spoke. His Words pierced through my chest.
I gasped and opened my palms, releasing five thousand words, eight hundred words, and a hundred ninety-nine words. Finally. . .the last word,
I gave it to Him.
Very Sincerely Yours,
Clarissa Choo-Choo Train