11 May 2025, 02:36
For What It's Worth
The parchment stayed blank for at least twenty whole minutes. Astra perched regally by the windowsill, evidently unimpressed. Joseph sighed, twirling his quill like it could cast a spell to make the words appear for him. There was no point in writing. It's not like his letter would mean anything more than extra toilet paper to her.
Finally he scribbled:
He didn't bother to reread the letter. Just folded it up, shoved it into the envelope, and sealed it with a press of his thumb. No decoration. No return address. Just her name, haphazardly scrawled across the front.11/5/2025
Hey Mom,
Mother,
Hi.
Happy Mother's Day, I guess.
I don't know why I'm writing this, you're probably rolling your eyes or reading it out loud to Dad like this is some kind of joke. But whatever, hope you're doing well.
Anyways, I'm fine. Don't worry - oh wait, you don't. Well, either way, here's your annual reminder that your son is alive.
Bye,
Joseph
He tied it to a school owl's leg, shooting it a look that said "don't wait for a reply" before turning away with Astra in hand, her weight strangely comforting.
Life is like a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans; you never know what you are going to get.