The Trash On

It Was the kind of December that lingered in the bones, cold seeping through every window outside the streetlights flickered against the soft swirl of snow. Their glow barely cutting through the early evening darkness. Inside the small house, the fire crackled lazily in the hearth, casting a dim orange light across the room. And there, on the mantelpiece, nestled between a half-burned candle and a faded photograph, was an envelope. A plain, white