Letters for Tomorrow

To you, still waiting for tomorrow,

Welcome to the Storm Post Office. Autumn 1920, the Western Front: a sheet of warm cream paper, worn but cared for, with fountain-pen copperplate so fine it seems meant to console. A faint topographic map shows through beneath the writing; gray-green grasses and the silhouette of a gravestone stand at the margin; brown stitches mend a tear; and in the corner rises a soft ochre sunrise.

A poet wrote in another autumn: “Whoever is alone now will stay alone for long, will keep awake, read, write long letters.” — Rainer Maria Rilke, Autumn Day (1902)

He meant loneliness, but we read it as an invitation: a long letter is a gentler way of being alone. Write today to tomorrow. We cannot promise what it will look like, only that your letter will be well kept.

May tomorrow read your handwriting

Storm Post Office

Autumn 1920 · Western Front