Letter of the Week
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Where there is water there is stone. Where there is fire begins hearth, guides home.
I don’t like him I say. Dreaming and imagining a place of our own to stay. Thinking about what dinner we’d have Sunday, and how it could be the same or different as Monday. He doesn’t love me I claim. He tells me everything in his brain. Without a sugarcoat, all that he shares with…
About the Archivist
This is a curated selection of letters that left a mark on the world, on someone’s life, or just in the margins of time.
Each is transcribed with care and respect for the medium that first carried it: the typewritten page.
Current Direction & Electric Projections 