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The Letter

by Hannelore · 18 June 2026 · Short Stories

A clinic letter for a woman who lives alone. Hannelore holds it for a minute. Then she pushes it through. She doesn't know if that was the right decision or just the easier one. Mrs Lühmann lived for many more years.

There was a letter on Beethovenstraße, 1997 or 1998, that sat in the letterbox for three days before I pushed it through. The box was too full and I pulled it out to make room, and that's when I saw the return address on the back was a clinic in Hamburg.

I held the letter for a minute. I could have opened it. Not just out of curiosity, though that was there too, but because clinic letters sometimes contain things a person shouldn't read alone, and I knew that Mrs Lühmann on Beethovenstraße lived alone.

Then I pushed it through. That was my job and I did it. But I stood looking at the letterbox for a long time afterwards, wondering whether that was the right decision or just the easier one.

Mrs Lühmann lived on Beethovenstraße for many more years after that. I saw that. That was either reassuring or had nothing to do with the letter.

WorkResponsibilityLonelinessDoubtDignity
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