Letter of the Week
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How he slowly walked from the bottom end where her feet lay so that he could take all of her in. She was dressed in a fitting black dress, and her hands fastened together on her stomach. How still she was, like a peaceful sleep, but no breathing. How he got to her face and…
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On his right, there was the long rectangular window that brimmed with droplets of rain and clear streaks, to look out of and watch… watch people, watch people walk, watch people walk and talk.. just watch.
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.
The Place Readers Seek 