July 26

1775 — U.S. Postal Service Established


Dear Jordan,

Feels funny writing a letter like this, the old fashioned way.

I wasn’t even sure if I had stamps, but I found some old ones.  I figure if I put extra stamps on the envelope, that will make up for any increase in postage rates.

I mean, we all got used to the internet, didn’t we?  Email, and texting on our phones, so everything was pretty much instantaneous.

This letter might take a while to get to you.  I hope it’s not too late.

You’ve probably figured out by now that we’re in trouble.  Sure, everybody’s in trouble now.  That weird magnetic event that erased all our bank records, destroyed all our computers and phones — it sure didn’t make life easier for anybody.

Most of us lost everything.

But you’d think, in times of crisis, that people would come together.  Help each other out.

That’s not what’s happened here.  People have pretty much gone crazy.

We’re all stealing from each other.  Killing each other, sometimes.

The kids miss you.  I’m really sorry we’ve been apart for so long.  Maybe we can get back to the way things were — with our family, at least.  The world might be a lost cause, but we might still have a chance.

It’s not safe for us to travel.  You’re in a better place, I’m sure.  It hurts my pride to write this, but the kids and I could really stand to be rescued.

We’re hiding in that building a few blocks from where we first met.  Remember the tree that used to have a tire swing?  That’s where you could find us, if you’re willing.  Stephen and Jordan Junior send their love.  I do, too.

Mailboxes are as rare as phone booths these days, but I know there’s one on the corner of Birch and Clemens, and I think I can sneak there and back without being spotted.  I hope they still have pickup.

Hoping to see you soon.

— Courtney


[one of several dust-covered letters found in an obsolete mailbox]