bakerstreet | epistolary.

Entry tags:

epistolary.

Epistolary

It's all text messages and Facebook entries these days, isn't it? Maybe you're from a time or a world where letters are still being written or maybe you're just saying fuck it to your computer and your phone and to the fast paced contact methods of modern day society. Write a letter to someone you rarely see or can't for whatever reason see right now, because of distance or maybe personal issues that are more easily addressed on paper anyway. Come on, you don't need an excuse, just write that damn letter!

How to play -

1. Top-level with your character. Include prefs and the like, if you wish.
2. Others now leave a comment with a letter their character has written yours.
3. Have your character respond, then go tag around as you wish.
4. Be entertained!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ info. ota for shipping and gen, though slightly m/m leaning for ships. historical letters from the 1920's available by default, modernization with discussion. you can either reply to this generic starter or send your own his way. ]

Warnings for mention of colonialism.

As you may have noticed, this letter comes without a salutation, and I extend my sincere apologies for that. Time ate it, if you can believe. The same time that has extended between us for months now and won't seem to let up at any point soon. The horizon is a far-flung thing. Totally out of reach. The only thing more impossible than the horizon is the notion of going back to Paris.

I am where I am, and you are where you are. Where that is, apparently, has to be apart.

If you haven't heard, I have returned to Italy after my brief trip to Abyssinia and am lodging just off the Vatican borders, currently. I've tried a variety of coffees around town, but most of the roasted beans sold out of stores in Rome are from my father's own produce, and it always tastes bitter on my tongue, no matter what I do. Our coffee is a fine product, but it... doesn't belong. Here. You might say I don't, either and I would agree with you, but where do I go? To belong.

What do you do with bitter coffee beans?

You see, I only have time for these kinds of ruminations, because I - in my eager impatience - left out your salutation. I'm sorry. Your name is known to me. Whether I am in Addis Ababa. In Rome. Whether I am back in Paris again, someday.

Let me know what occupies your mind these days, please. You do occupy mine.

Fond regards from the horizon,
Armand.