Handwritten notes on lined paper, written in a hurried scrawl or carefully printed with pen or pencil. Tucked into a secret hiding place or slipped into your hand. Little pieces of someone's heart that I treasure. Why did we stop writing notes?
Last night in the midst of that state of being awake and drifting off to sleep, a vivid memory came to mind. Musty cigarette butts, the snap of cold air, greasy thick-cut chips just frying, and the new smell of Argos catalogs.
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