My Cardboard Balcony

Life in Bag End by Belinda Roddie I was just tall enough to rest my head against her bosom as she held me. Small as a child, yet blunt as a lover, I was surprised she endured my size. She called me her Hobbit, and I, finding the nickname fun, decided to make us second breakfast and indulge in elevensies while Saturday mornings were still alive. We were glad to go on adventures together, slay dragons together. I was small as a child, yet old enough to think about a wedding with ribbons and music and just enough cake to make this little Hobbit happy.

The envelope was sealed, oddly enough, with wax. It was as if the sender were trying to reenact some olden days tradition, which of course was annoying to me because I was not exactly interested in holding the letter over a flame and letting the emblem melt. Instead, I tore at it with an old, brass letter opener, and sure enough, the paper itself was wrinkled and stained like parchment.