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Letter mail between two people has become almost obsolete. However during this time at a base camp a solider writes a letter. The solider has no remaining family and therefore no one to write to. None the less he writes a letter and sends it to some address he makes up thinking he will just get it back in the return mail.

[x] lives at that ‘made up’ address and receives the soldiers letter. He is surprised at the letter and writes a curious response much to the soldier’s surprise. The soldier believes he will die in the war and just asks the other to put up with his letter until that point. He even tells [x] that he doesn’t need to respond to the letters and that he would just be happy that someone was getting his letters and knew he existed. However [x] continues the correspondence with each new letter and slowly a friendship forms.

Name: Phoenix Levinson
Age: 20:
Personality: Shy and easily flustered, phoenix is not quite good at making friends "irl" but he's the geeky kind that shows his true self when you know him well, or through the net. He's easygoing and loves writing. this too much shyness of him makes it difficult for him to find someone that loves him, 'cause he's always the guy in the corner and he finds it difficult to step forward and invite someone out.
he's quite stubborn and when he's happy he has dimples on the cheeks.
Bio: Majoring in a writing degree, he has started living alone recently on this small flat he pays up with the part time job at the coffee shop by the library. He has an elder sister and two twin younger sisters more, that still live with their parents. No one aside from his family has this new adress of his, so he's utterly shocked to receive a letter adressed there.
USS: Seke

It was late that day. Phoenix just wanted to go home and crash on the couch with a double shot of headache pills and something warm to eat. It had been a tough day. In the morning, his least two favourite subjects at college had involved though and dense lectures and the last one had lasted almost half an hour of after-the-bell time which left him with barely half an hour to eat something, put on the coffee shop's uniform and rush for work. And today at work there were scheduled a couple birthday parties, which made the place more crowded than what it usually was, and extra job to to afterwards in cleaning and all that stuff.
He felt his brains dense as syrup and his arms like lead, but he walked the way home like a hero... strike that.... like an automaton. He got the bunch of letters from his mailbox upon arrival thinking most of them were surely recycle bin fodder and went into his appartment.
The first thing Phoenix did was tossing the keys into a bowl on the table in his mix of living room and kitchen and then he sat heavily in the couch, kicking his sneakers off his feet. Running through the mail he set aside a couple bills and was about to toss the rest aside when a tattered envelope got his attention.

It was a somewhat crumpled and dirty envelope, like if it came from a dusty place and handed from person to person before arriving. The address was handwritten and his name was not on it, like if someone knew where he lived but not his name. He thought maybe it was a letter for the previous appartment owner, but then, the name would be in the letter. Maybe it was a prank, or a harrassment letter. Phoenix was wodering wether he should open it or not, but in the end curiosity got the better of him and he carefully opened it.

He read the letter a couple times and he felt a stab in his gut. He felt sorry for the man, for private Hemmet. What was he supposed to do now? He could not help the man in any way... he was here and private Hemmet was... he checked the back of the envelope... on the other side of the globe, on a silly war that would do nothing aside from getting young men killed for a kind of stupid cause.
There was only one thing he could do. A naive thing that maybe would set the man's heart a bit at ease.


A couple days later he took the unclosed envelope from the coffe table before his couch. He had written the response in a kind of autopilot and now he was wondering if he should seal it and send it or not. He took the letter from inside the green envelope and read it yet again.


Dear Private Hemmet, sir;

I have to confess finding your letter in my mailbox shocked me quite a bit... well, it shocked me a lot in fact because only my closest family and a couple of friends have my address. I also have to say I almost tossed it to the recycle bin but curiosity was stronger and I felt it was quite an evil thing to just make the postal service return it to the sender. It felt like... that would smash your little hopes to pieces and i made me feel so bad.

So here am I, writing to you, a total stranger, after a hard day and a headache as big as one of those mid western storms that cause so big tornados.

I know I can do nothing else but to write this letter and tell you that someone will think of you. I may not know you at all, but stay strong and know here, back home -in a way- there's someone who knows you're there.

If you're reading this, then it means I got my mind done and I've overcome my stupid shyness that has made me linger and this letter to lay around for some days.

Sincerely,

Phoenix Levinson
the overworked coffee shop attendant

P.S: You may keep on writing if you wish to, it does not bother me and I... well, maybe you'll feel a lot better knowing someone will be hearing reading about your fears and hopes.


Phoenix folded the letter again and with trembling hands, he took it, licked the gum sealing and plasted a couple stamps.

"Here goes nothing" he told himself as he went out the door to the nearest mail office.

The days after Phoenix had received and sent the letter where spent in his daily basis of college classes in the mornings and working in the afternoons, spiced with studying after he got home and in the weekends.
His mailbox was empty as always but for supermarket discounts and other various advertisement leaflets printed in bright colours and bad quality paper. So when that day he found another somewhat tattered envelope he was surprised at first and then a small smile crept to his lips. Phienix opened the letter even before entering his appartment and fumbled with the keys while he read the few lines eagerly than he would confess.


Dear Private Hemmet, sir;

It was a nice surprise finding a reply letter in my mailbox, but even more surprising it was that my mailbox had not been overstuffed with advertisement leaflets as of lately!

Some days ago I was wondering if my letter would have reached you, as being there where you are I thought it might be lost in the way or whatever... after all it was sent almost a month ago... and I had to confess I grew a bit anxious on your behalf thinking maybe something might have happened to you before my letter reached you, and that would have been really sad. But now I know you're all right and that relieves me more than I thought.

Don't mind the letters bothering me, they're not doing so at all. In fact I think they can become a really nice way to keep in touch with the world outside my little shell. Since I moved here, it seems all I'm doing is attending classes, working and studying, with the eventual eating, sleeping and the coverage of basic daily needs. So, like you, it's nice knowing someone out there knows of my existence, even if it is a total stranger, 'cause after all, even the dearest friends were once strangers to us, ain't it right?

Stay strong out there, soldie! keep yourself safe of enemy fire as well as of sun strokes!

Sincerely,

Phoenix Levinson
the friendly stranger back home...

P.S: ... and who's crawling to bed before falling asleep onto his empty diner plate.


Next day, on his way to college, Phoenix threw the letter -which he had put into another one of those bright green envelopes of his- into the nearest postbox and resumed his way with high spirits and a giddy feeling, like he could be giggling like a silly little girl. It was strange for him how a letter from a man he knew not could make him smile, but it did, and well, it was not a bad feeling being happy for a while.

After that second letter, Phoenix had started to pay more attention to his maibox. It was no longer overstuffed in advertisement leaflets and the likes, as he threw those regularly not to miss a possible future letter from private Hemmet.
"Not today", he told to himself whenever he emptied its contents without finding the expected tattered envelope, "but maybe tomorrow" or "after the weekend maybe....".

Dear Privare Hemmet, sir;

I understand it your letters being delayed on sending as well as in delivering, for yours it's not a common situation and I also understand in this cases mail is not a top priority.

It saddened me to hear you're getting closer to the front lines and that nightmares plague your nights depriving you of a much deserved and needed rest. Out there the work to be done and the stress levels I'm sure are pretty high, and a rested body is as much needed as a rested mind. But i'm happy my short lines could help you fall into the sweet arms of Morpheus and have a good night's rest.

College life can be stressful and havock but also fun, but you have to strive to be the best and find a job to pay for studies and things like that if you're living alone like I do.
I'm maroring in a linguistics and literature degree, something that can be really thick and dense in some lectures... but well, I'm keeping myself afloat and on my way of maybe someday be a writer or something like that.
Meanwhile, I'm growing to be a specialist in brewing and serving delicious coffees and similar things hahahaha. I shall treat you to a delicious capucciono with whipped cream and a touch of cocoa when you hit home shores again!

Waiting for another letter to tell me you're keeping yourself well and safe,
Phoenix Levinson
The coffee master!!!

Dear Private Hemmet, sir;

That of the correspondence was exactly what I meant... Warring information and plans and orders and all that jazz has top priority while sending note home of the well faring of the men and women serving there and putting their lives at stake for the sake of ..... sorry if I sound a bit rash... all this madness ... that... that seems to be worth the same as soiled toilet paper.

I'm sorry to hear people over there, your fellow soldiers, are breaking up due the high ammount of stress.... It's sad to hear that... I suppose they see way too much of things they don't like to bee seeing... like injured and dead colleagues and lots of blood and such... and I hope the morals are still high and with hopes of making it back home. Please... you have to keep alive and make it back home in one piece ok?

How's the weather treating you over there? Here's been raining for a full week on... not downpouring all the time, but never stopping completely... although that means the coffee shop is always full of people wanting shelter of the rain and cold for a little bit. It's good for the business or so it seems... although I have to confess I'm starting to miss sunny days...
You know.. it's nicer to be out and study in the park in front of my place on sunny days instead of being stuck inside... The old crazy nuts (the dense ones at least) are more easily swalloable when you read about them in the lazyness of the mulled and fresh grass of the park, under the shade of a nice tree. Although my time studying the old crones of literature is done, at the moment I'm most into subjects like creative writing and character developpment there are still some dense bits like aestetics and modern history.... I prefer much more ancient one...

That mental picture you did yourself I hope it was not of me *I'm laughing here... sorry if my handwriting is a bit messy* That would be more the picture of my old english teacher... that's one of the densest things ever -old english I mean-... but is really fun at times too!
HE would say tweed is always trendy hahaha! I'm more the one with the raggedy jeans, the old jumper and the messy long hair.. with a small ponytail sometimes... better dressed when I'm at the coffee shop.... you see.... quite the normal kind of guy.

...

Oh... I hope this letter hasn't been a bit boring.. or way too long... I tend to pour down my thoughts once I get started.... and to ramble.... well... whatever... see... I'm doing it again haha
I'll be waiting for more news!

From the home shores,
Phoenix,
one who misses sunlight.

Dear Private Hemmet, sir;

In fact this letter of yours brought me sunshine... but it brought sunshine to my heart, not onto the outside world. It had been so long since your last letter which, like always, I replied right away, unable to refrain myself to pour news from familiar shores into some lines for a dear soldier whose biggest hope is to make it home again and soon... and enjoy a delicious coffe with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon and cocoa... (here you'll have to iagine me winking in a complice way).

Here weather has not improved much and it's raining once more as this letter is being written. An impressive storm this time, with lots of whire rippling lightning slashing the sky. And good news is that I'm more than the simple serving boy at the coffee shop but the one on charge during weekends now. And my studies are going well.

But as I started saying, the letter brought sunshine and stilled the anxious winds of my heart. It had been so longg since the day I posted my green envelope.... I was starting to fear one of these days I'd found it returned at my mailbox; fearing your reply had been lost on it's way... dreading the thought that my letter could had not even reached you before.......

Some big stains, like droplets, teardrops, stain the paper and make the nice and cursive handwriting of Phoenix slightly blurry and a bit harder to read.

That for sure is a thing I don't like to think about... but as the days turned to weeks and the weeks to months I was getting more and more worried.
In my worries I thought of a thing I'd like to ask you... to offer you... if I ever got news of your wellbeing.... Maybe you'll find it too bold, too much for a request of someone you barely know.
Recalling on your first letter, the one so strangely put two total strangers in contact, I recall you saying you had no family or friends waiting you back home and that no one would cry your loss if you ever happened to die on the frontline... Well... as I think you can clearly see on the mess above, I have certainly shed tears -of relief this time- for your sake.... But this is not where I was going... what I wanted to ask... to offer... you don't know how hard it's being for me even to write this. If I got you face to face I don't think I would have confidence enough to blabber the words out....
I may be not into the army but I'm familiar with some of the traditions and things usually done.....
And... what.... what I wanted to tell you... ask you.... offer you... is that you... you can give this address.... for them to send back home the bundled flag because... because here there's someone who will miss you if.... if... you know... if the Valkyrie came to claim your soul to Valhalla.


From somewhere where the streets are water and the slies crack with light
Phoenix,
A blushing one that's been crying for you.

Dear Private Hemmet, sir,

This time mail service was not as bad, and I got your letter quite soon, I have to say I didn't imagine it to come this fast. And I also could see rain has been over there, because the envelope paper was al wrinkled and warped in spots like if it was handled outside in the rain; and the address on the front of the envelope was barely legilible... Luckily for me, the postman my area knows me from the coffee shop and came to the cafeteria with your letter, asking me if I was able to decypher the blurry handwriting as my adress. He feared the letter was for me, because he had realised as of late I had other letters in my mailbox aside from the usuall bills and receipts and leaflets of advertisement, so recognizing the paper he brought it for me to see. And although the ink was all blotchy and faded, the handwriting I'm used to was there, tight and compressed, familiar in it's strange way, bringing me news of my soldier stranger.

So you see, I got my letter in a surprising way, and it was strange because I could not read it straight away because I was at work, and I had it tucked in the rear pocket of my jeans all afternoon, itching to cut the side open and read the letter.... but I had to make it home first and that was ot until five hours after getting it. There's a strange emotion and itch when you want to do something so badly and you're not allowed too, and I was giddy and happy all afternoon; I served faster and was also more forgetful, I spilled a couple coffees because I filled 'em too much and I did a mess with the whipped cream to top the hot chocolate.
But when I finally bade it home the back pocket of my jeans seemed to be on fire for me 'cause I got the letter so quick and I snuggled in the couch wrapped in a blanket to read it.... because yes, here the weather is way colder now as fall comes to an end, and my electric heater broke last week, so blanket and fireplace it is.... and how glad I am for having that last one!!!

I have to confess I feel really happy knowing you're doing well, and I'm sorry for your friend, but he must be so brave to get hurt and then say it was nothing even though he had to stay for quite a while in the clinic.... although I'm sad, and a bit worried that the frontline is nearer to you now and that your camp had that brief encounter with danger.
But I really am very happy to hear you accepted my offer and already did all the paperwork to get me noticed if ever something happened on the bad side -God prevents it- or on the good side -which would be really best news ever-.

And you guessed right, Valkyries and Valhalla are from nordic mithology, in fact that is one of my most enjoyed subjects at the university, and this semestre I'm doing exactly that one. Norge culture is really rich on aweome miths and mythologies, and it's a pity these are not as known to the wide world as greek or roman ones, or even egyptian ones.
I'm sending you a gift, it's a thin booklet of Nordic mythology. I hope it is to your taste and gets your mind off more sad and not too pleasant things to think of, and also to let you think of the home shores, where there will be someone waiting for you to bring back one of his most appreciated treasures. This will be the safe conduit to enjoying your best coffes ever. So treat it with care and enjoy it as much as I did.

Keep on well, my petite wiry soldier!
And hope the fates have set their good eye on you and guide your way back home safe or as safely as it can be.

From under the pile of blankets by the fireplace,
Phoenix.

Phoenix folded the letter and put it in its usual green envelope. he looked for that booklet on mythology he had since he was a kid and which had so awesome drawings to illustrate the gods and heroes and creatures and put both the letter and the book inside a bigger envelope, one of those that have a sheet of plastic bubbles on the inside.