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A letter

I once found a letter in our mailbox that was addressed to nobody I knew. The address on the envelope was ours, but the name was a stranger, so short of going house to house in our neighborhood and asking for somebody by that name, I didn't know how else to help the letter find its way.

It sat on a bookshelf for weeks before I decided to open it. Maybe it contains a clue on the person's identity, I reasoned to myself, as I opened the envelope carefully so I could still seal it again.

It didn't. It was an apologetic love letter, from someone who hadn't communicated in a long time, a ghost before ghosting had become a phenomenon people would write and tell stories about.

I haven't forgotten you, the letter said in Filipino, and I am sorry if you think I have. Do you still live in this address? Please let me know. It was signed with love, sent from foreign waters with no specific return address.

For a few seconds, I felt like I had been handed an important mission by the Universe: to bridge a couple's eternal love.

Then a few seconds after that, I put the letter down. If he really loves her, he will have to find his way.


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