Things that come in the Post

There is an old postbox by the edge of the woods. I came upon it by night. It seemed ancient, like a standing stone in the mist.

The next day, I dropped a postcard into it, with some address I’d made up. I’m not certain why. I think I just wanted to see what would happen.

I have received many letters since. They bear strange stamps and strange postmarks. Some are written in runes I cannot identify. Others boast addresses from Atlantis or Hy Brasil or Broseliand Beneath the Waves.

I have never answered. Still the letters come.

Word Count: 100

This is for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for running the challenge and Rowena Curtin for providing the photo prompt.

You can read other stories here!