The envelope came with an airmail stamp, a more seasoned traveller already than most she knew.
The envelope was the soft green of ears of wheat, the hue they are before developing to a deep sunshine gold.
The envelope arrived on time with the bluebell insignia, releasing a floral aroma when the letter was plucked into the awaiting sunshine.
The envelope arrived pristine, as if it had travelled in some steam-press rather than in the hand of the mailman.
He sent the story in a trail of modest envelopes, yet their contents were always beyond expectations.
The envelope came at long last, looking to the rest of the world as any other, yet the handwriting was absolutely hers, and so Leo's heart leaped for joy.
The envelope sits upon the mantle in the full sun of the well established daylight, addressed, stamped, ready for mailing.
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