[ WP ] A 101-year old bottle washed up on a beach with a letter inside . It 's for you .

`` Dear Robert,'' the letter began. A good start for any letter, but a surprising start for this one. The yellowed paper could barely hold the faint blue ink that looped and peaked it's way from margin to margin. Hidden for years in a boat of glass, this weathered stowaway was bound to cause trouble. 
 
 Robert stared out across the water and blinked. For good measure, he blinked twice more. He looked back down at the paper in his hands. 
 
 `` Dear Robert.'' So he had n't misread. `` I hope this letter reaches you in happy circumstances. You should know you hold my warmest affection, and it pains me to write you in this manner. I have always loved you, your brilliant smile, your strong embrace. I shall continue to love you, but I fear I must never see you again. The struggles that tear at our hearts are far too real to ignore. I could not live with myself knowing I brought you into this world of fear, this world of hate. Please forget me, your happiness depends on it. Yours always, Angela.'' 
 
 Robert blinked again. He held the letter close to his chest. The depths of emotion released by Angela's letter were foreign to this lonely man. No one wrote love letters to Robert. No one noticed his brilliant smile. And yet this letter, this messenger from the distant past, was breaking his heart. 
 
 Absurd thoughts tore at Robert's sanity. He was a rational man, a careful man. But this letter... maybe it was true! Maybe there was more to a man than the experiences he knew. Past lives, glorious lives full of romance and mystery, lived in a better time, when a man of honor and nobility was respected. Robert knew he was not born for this age of cheap thrills and artificial norms, this broken system of celebrity worship and excessive grooming. His heart swelled as he realized he had been great. He had loved greatly, and maybe he would again. 
 
 With his eyes in the clouds, Robert walked along the water. Fifteen steps of buoyant bliss, interrupted by the gentle clink of glass. He looked down and saw another bottle. Same cork, same paper. Hands trembling, he carefully extracted the letter. What other hints of his gloried past were contained within? What messages from his angel? 
 
 He unfolded the brittle pages. `` Dear Roger, I hope this letter reaches you in happy circumstances. You should know you hold my warmest affection...''
