address unknown

dear stranger,

it's me, the person who got that book out of the library after you did. i can see that we both like to dog ear pages of note. i can see that we agree on which pages are noteworthy.

when i read something profound, when i pause to take it in, when i go to fold the page corner and notice a crease already there - i feel connected to you, dear stranger.

i wonder who you are, what you thought when you were reading those passages, if you felt alone, if you considered at all that these creases you left would be like a hand stretched out. if you knew that i would be the one, forward in time to take hold.

it's pleasing to think that our actions in solitude have future implications in collectivity. don't you think? i believe in those things. like i believe in small turns of kismet and fate to somehow bring this letter to you and what's more, for you to understand its yours.



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