a letter on the desser.

There, on the dresser, it sits. An envelope, enwrapped with age and yellow. There it sits, waiting to fall into the hands of the chosen. To Ai Lin, to Gaik Sin. There it waits for fate to make its claim, so that what was predestined within it can come to pass. On the opening side where its mouth is sealed, a signature - one last deciding kiss; A deal with the devil, a promise even the Law cannot break. I pine to see the details, the contents; It regards my life after all. But,

     To Ai Lin, to Gaik Sin.


It is truth not meant for me to know.