Letter Writing

I had an urge to write tonight.  I sat down at the computer and stared.

Write something–to somebody, but no vague person.  I wanted to write to an audience that had intrigue and fostered intrigue.  The amorphous blogosphere could not handle my request.

I wrote a letter.  I wrote a letter to somebody.  I wrote with specific details and personal affect.  I wrote with intention.  I wrote with question marks.  I wrote in parentheses.

I wrote it, sealed it, mailed it.  Now I wait for a return.

When returns come, they come full force.  They come in tangible thought inked over pages of fluttering, nervous wonder.  And answers?  There are answers, but they bring questions alongside them anyway.

I wrote a letter today.  I will write one tomorrow, too.