Mail (2)

I suppose you know the feeling: Sometimes you get mail, and you see something on the envelope, and immediately your imagination starts, and all kinds of associations pour out and arrange themselves until you have a story of sorts. The weird thing with me is how totally uncontrollable it is, and how apparently independent of the actual piece of mail.

Many postcards, for example, do nothing for me, not even if they have evocative pictures on the front and were sent by really good friends. On the other hand, the small white box that I collected from the post offce today was an entirely different matter. All I that happened was that I looked at the postage stamps, and literally a whole train of impressions (it actually was about trains, believe it or not) started going.

Not that I've ever been to New York. I also don't feel like going there. It still works.