Dear Khodayar, I write these letters to you in the hope of
you being found. I post them to you and ask others to post them to you. From
all around the world people drop letters that are addressed to you into letter
boxes. From Italy, from Hong Kong, from Turkey, from America and from all
around Australia these letters are sent to you at your final camp. We leave
letters for you at the tree beside where you died. And we leave letters for you
on your grave. I listen to the clock tick and I feel my hands tingling as I
await your reply.
Is it too much to ask that one of these letters might reach
you and make you smile? That it might reach you and make you un-dead for just a
moment? It is with great hope and great love that I write and send these
letters to you. That your eyes may run over these words and that you may speak
in reply. That I can hear your voice again and read your words; you who are so
human – who we need so much. It seems you have passed into the great silence. I
wish it was not so. I am still waiting here for you. Love Stephen.
No comments:
Post a Comment