The Intervening Years

Photo by: The Storyteller’s Abode

Ashley received a letter from Victoria after many years of silence. She rested in the drawing room with it. It read:

Darling Sister,

The rift between us must end. We are so different. I’m certain little has changed in our years apart. I command a squadron of fighting airships battling the Teutonic Empire. You, the loveliest girl in Londonium, married Britannia’s wealthiest weapons contractor. A trophy wife, perhaps. Though I hardly understand you, you’re still my sister.

I’m sorry your Rupert passed on. You’re getting help? You’ve always been a desert flower, unable to survive without a stranger’s generosity. Now I fear for you. Teutonic forces march upon Londonium with their villainous steam-powered walking tanks. Run away! I should hate that the horrors of war be visited upon your fragile soul.

Your adoring sister,

Victoria

Ashley stood up, her filmy dress fluttering in the breeze. She approached the 37mm anti-tank gun standing at the window. Expertly, she loaded and aimed it.

“Not to worry, dear sister,” she murmured. “Things have changed in the intervening years.”
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Written for the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers writing challenge.