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I do not truly care how or when i get the Letters in the Mail. Every time it arrives, it feels like a letter should be. It’s suddenly there in my mail box a single day. A nice, tangible surprise. I’m for you doing whatever you want when you send it. Mix it up for the men and women who help get it sent out. Include crumbs from your lunch. Coffee stains. Whatever. Keep the tedious naturel of getting letters out to a minimum by doing whatever you feel like that day. The arrival on the letter and the words on the author inside are what matters. Personally, what I like greatest about The Rumpus is that I never ever know what I’ll go through that day. Or if there isn’t really one that day, maybe it’s because Stephen couldn’t find anything to say or there was as well much heading on.
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