As soon as I walked in, we locked eyes. I knew he was for me. He was tall, dark and handsome. Rugged and well traveled. He was a drifter. By choice. During war time on the United States Lines, because he followed a hunch, that told him that is where he felt he needed to be. I love a man who lives life on a whim. I do too.

He said that the United States Lines went mostly to Europe, to London and Bremen to be exact. Those days people carried trunks without wheels and everyone wore a hat. Letters were written in pen and mailed with a stamp. Any boat with a crew could be turned into a warship at any time. He never spoke of other girls, as no one had stolen his heart, until now.

He had lived a great life. Carried many dreams. Fulfilled many goals. Now it was time to settle down and find someone he could share his stories, protect and hold dear. He was sitting down on an old cart, next to a lanky man. I walked up to him and I made him an offer that was only his to be accepted.

“I give you $16.” I said it and brought him home.
I think we will be together forever… Sometimes my imagination runs away with me. He is my trunk. :)

The way this paper was crumbling, it had to be at least 80 years old.
by | 2 Comments

2 Comments on A Life in a Trunk

  1. Tracey
    May 3, 2010 at 11:20 PM (15 years ago)

    I love it! It’s fabulous…xxx

  2. Elizabeth of Mason & Mia Cosmetics
    May 5, 2010 at 3:13 PM (15 years ago)

    What a fantastic post , I love how eloquently you phrase everything. Ah , those were the days when a handwritten letter from your beau that you waited for anxiously meant the world. You make me dream of another world in many different colors. xoxox