The Letter

Written for Sadje’s What Do You See

The envelope arrived at the Zürich office, thin and slightly crumpled, bearing Indian postage stamps that the receptionist had to look up to identify.

Martin Gredig had been lying beside the Limmat River all morning, his arm thrown over his eyes, listening to the water and trying not to think. The boat that passed sent gentle waves lapping against the stone embankment. He’d taken leave from the foundation …. indefinite leave, his director had called it, with barely concealed irritation. It had been three months since the photograph arrive.

He still carried a print of it in his jacket pocket.

Three girls outside a fabric merchant’s stall. The eldest had her arms wrapped around the younger two, fiercely protective even while smiling. The middle child’s eyes held something far more mature than her years. The youngest stared straight into Martin’s lens as though daring him to look away first

He hadn’t been able to.

The letter, when his colleague finally tracked him down by the river and pressed it into his hand, was written in uncertain English on lined paper torn from a school notebook.

Dear photograph man,

My name is Priya. I am the big girl. You took our picture long time ago in the market. My teacher showed us the magazine. The foundation people came to our school because of the picture. They built a library.

Martin sat up slowly, the afternoon sun cutting through the trees overhead.

My sister Meena …. the middle one …. she reads every book two times. Now she has a scholarship. She is going to Pune for college. She asked me to write to you.

She says tell him we were not sad that day. We were just hot.

She says tell him thank you for seeing us.

Martin folded the letter carefully. Across the canal, tourists drifted along the promenade. A child laughed somewhere behind him.

He put the letter in his pocket, beside the photograph, and reached for his camera.

NAR©2026
#WDYS

This is “Photograph” by Ed Sheeran

What do you see # 346- 22 June, 2026

^{Everything on The Elephant’s Trunk was created by me, unless otherwise indicated. Thanks for your consideration. NAR©2017-present.}