Volume I · The Archive

The letters
that arrived.

Each one was written by someone who had carried it for a long time. Each one is offered here to be read the same way it was written — slowly, and without hurry.

A stack of handwritten letters tied with twine, resting on a wooden windowsill in warm afternoon light

6 letters, and counting.

An opening

I stood at the front of the room and said the things people wanted to hear. That she was kind.

— from What I did not say at the funeral

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Read by what you carry

Now reading · All themes, newest first · 6 letters

After reading

Perhaps you have a letter of your own.

You don't need to know how to begin. Beginning is the only thing that begins.