One Stamp Away

A/N: For optional context, please see end!

1st July 1969

Dear Irene,

I hope the address you gave me is still the right one. I also hope this letter has reached you safely and you are in good health.

I know it must be strange to hear from an old friend so suddenly - 26 years is a long time - but I have been thinking of reaching out for some time now.

I was listening to the radio and I heard about the demonstration in Lower Manhattan. A 'police raid gone wrong' they called it, though I am fully aware what the police were looking for that night and a richeous raid it was not.

I was sickened to hear what happened to those souls at the Stonewall Inn. It is no wonder the whole affair turned violent. The descriptions of the unrest and fire lining the streets reminded me of my days as a mechanic during the war and, of course, you.

Do you remember the day we first met? I think it was a flat tire, wasn't it? You burst it on a pothole between bases. You were so worried about getting to Site B on time - I've never changed a tire so fast!

I think about that day a lot.

I'm not one for long letters, so I'll end this one here. Please know that there's always a place for you here, with me, if things get too unstable there.

Franky.

5th July 1969

Dearest Franky,

I was thrilled to receive your letter; it did indeed reach the correct address and has found me in good health, arthritis notwithstanding.

Thank you for your concern for my safety and the offer of a place to stay. That was very kind of you, especially after so many years. The streets are much quieter now, thank goodness. The night of the raid was truly frightening - there were bricks thrown through my neighbours' window - her husband is a cop. It was a miracle that she and her son were not hurt!

I also thought of the war when I saw the chaos. It made me angry, so unspeakably angry. I wanted to open my window and shout: 'Is this the freedom we fought so hard for?'.

Then, I actually started to watch what was happening through my window instead. Some folks threw fire and spat insults at the police, but others had a different method of rebellion.

I saw a man dressed in a pink frock, chanting with the crowd. Seeing him stirred something in me. To hear such a deep, rich voice thrown from feminine pink lips. It was...beautiful. It felt raw and painful. It made me want to weep in a way. His uniform of war, though different to my own, gave him the strength to stand up for what he believes in, as mine once did.

Then, I saw couples of the same sex holding hands and kissing amongst the rubble. To kiss in such openness, in rebellion, must be so thrilling! I hope you do not mind me saying, but it made me think of our stolen moments together in your garage. I hope people like us can show affection without persecution someday.

I do remember the day we first met. Your memory is sharper than mine - I had forgotten it was a flat tire! I remember thinking that you mustn't of liked me very much. You scowled at me the whole time. Turns out you had a distaste for your birth name, Francesca, and I was calling you that the whole time. I was trying to sound professional!

Then, with more of our meetings - some due to duty, others my poor adaptability to lorry driving - you softened toward me. It was a privilege to see, and I should like to see your eyes again.

Forgive my reminiscing. In truth, I feel like the demonstrations may have started something. I can feel it in the air as I walk the streets, and under my skin. People have seen something - something they shouldn't forget.

Yours fondly,

Irene x

OPTIONAL CONTEXT BELOW!

This piece of historical fiction details two letters written between two ww2 veterans. During the 40's they worked as a mechanic and a lorry driver for the American army.

They write to eachother as they witness the Stonewall Riots in 1969. It is implied that they had a love affair while in the army, and both start to understand what the riots mean.

While there was an official ban on LGBT individuals joining the army, there is a lot of anecdotal evidence suggesting that ww2 gay and lesbian servicemembers were often living with more freedom than they had ever had before.

With the UK government altering the Equality Act 2010 in an excusionary manner, I was keen to look into the past to where gay rights first began, and I came across so many stories of LGBT joy from the 1940's and the rise of gay rights from 1969.

I would love this to be read in a way that reminds people that everyone is deserving of kindness, and that LGBT people are an essential part of society as a whole. We exist, and we aren't going to be labelled by politicians as anything we don't want to be.

TWW