Irene Benvenuti

Letters From Cynthia

Cynthia was gone. That was all Zoe could think about as she stood in front of the large Victorian style house that she had once called home. A letter burned a hole in her pocket. It had come from Cynthia’s lawyer a week ago. Zoe’s latest tiny apartment had closed around her even smaller as her eyes flicked across the impossible words “Last Will and Testament...”. The house and $20,000, that was what she was left with. She would rather have Cynthia back. But the only way that would happen now was in her memories.