The land of letters

In the land of letters, you never fall out of touch. School chums, kindly teachers, the stern-but-sympathetic father of an ex who got you your first job in the accounts department. Old colleagues, old neighbours, old flames. You never lose track of their places in the world because their missives fall incessantly upon your doormat: daily from those with lots to tell, monthly or yearly from the settled, sedentary folk. All the correspondence makes your wrist ache.

Over time, the letters stop coming. In the end, if you are lucky, or unlucky, you have nobody to write to but yourself.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s