Why I love ...

... handwritten letters
In our increasingly cyber-inclined environment, where words and texts float invisibly around our very beings, announcing themselves with a ping or series of beeps, nothing beats the delicious feeling of finding a handwritten letter nestled between the familiar daily deluge of bills and junk mail.

Our eyes scour the inky, scrawled address curiously, searching to see if you can guess who it is from before the prized piece of post is opened. Who has taken the time, in an era when answers are instant, to put pen to paper and write personally to me?

On unfolding a crisp piece of paper there is no convoluted text-talk to baffle the reader. Things aren't gr8, they're fabulous - words are written in their full and lengthy glory. There's something rather gorgeous about swirls of ink on paper, a further expression of the character of their creator.

Gone are the days of puckering up and kissing an envelope tenderly before sending it off on its romantic journey to a loved one's hands. It did happen once upon a time, though. Does anyone scent their texts with a dab of perfume before they ask their intended for a dinner date these days? I think not. And how many people keep their emails in a neatly tied bundle or carefully prepared shoebox for future hours of reminiscing?

Having recently got married, I took the opportunity to spend several hours writing thank-you letters to my nearest and dearest, pouring my gratitude and love into every splash of ink.

And, from one recipient, this is the text I got back: thnx 4 lettr, it woz gr8 2 hear frm u.spk sn

I rest my case.

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