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The young woman picked up the postage. “Pigs”. That’s all it said. What is she supposed to make of that? Who is it from? she flips it over. “Cows”. Great.
By Lisa on 09.26.2010
I couldn’t find the postage. The letter had to be sent. It was my life, my story- my excuse. The word had to travel- the why.
By Amanda on 09.26.2010
I never sent him another letter. He signed with love and sent away his heart, and I didn’t even have to courage to respond. Even the postman could tell I lost something more valuable then a pen pal.
By KC on 09.26.2010
postage used to not cost very much, but now it does. I know a postman named ‘Lee’. He carries a big sack and whinges when he gets too many parcels
By craig Tull URL on 09.26.2010
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.