Twenty years later, I wonder if writing letters is done at all anymore. I imagine these days it would be in the form of texting short, sharp, abbreviated quips – which I think is a shame. After all, you can’t keep sms-es stuffed in a bag at the back of a cupboard, to be rediscovered in another time and place, with glee.
Yes, here are mere few: almost two decades old; yellowed; cringeworthy; possibly incriminating (and therefore last names – and some first names – have been hidden), but also poignant.
These words are from a time, place and people that have entered and exited my field of vision; they document the last days of adolescence, albeit with crappy spelling and grammar, and inane subjects that once upon a time filled our worlds.