Letters in Longhand: Rumi and Strings...

The Inevitable P.S.

Post Girl: In the Deep South, United States; I'm a girl who still clings with much reverence to the kind of writing that I can hold in my hands--my stamps and stationery, my pen-and-ink greetings and salutations, and the triumphant, cool-metal of the mailbox flag. I still harbor an expectant hope in the sound of the mail carrier rustling about in his jeep to find a bundle of mail with my name on it. And I still hold my breath for that inevitable "p.s" that can often say more than the letter itself. In the hopes that I may inspire ONE letter to be written, sealed, and sent(that wouldn't have been otherwise), I would like to extend the invitation to everyone to read along with me the entirety of all my future correspondence.

*BENJAMIN, my husband
*DAD
*GAYLA, my sister
*GRANDMA AND GRANDPA, my father's parents
*GRETCHEN, my best friend from high school (Met in Germany)
*JASON AND ANNE, Friend from the military and his wife (Met Jason in Italy)
*KATHY, my sister
*LOLLY, friend, former roommate, and formerly fellow library clerk (Met in Athens, GA)
*NANNY, my mother's mother
*REDD, Friend of fifteen years and counting (Met in Austria)