Dear Fiza,
The letters I write arrive sincerely, almost as if they have been delivered straight from the heart. Sometimes you take time opening it, take time reading it. I wonder why the urgency is not so urgent anymore, why time both compresses and expands memories. As if memories were tiny atoms hidden in more elaborate structure called love. I don't like structures. I like it abstract and you know it yet you continue with the torment. You search for structures everywhere, even in this letter that has none. I sign off every letter differently and this time you are proud of the poweress or my creativity. The letters don't just arrive sincerely they are also signed off sincerely. Like this one is.
Head,
Ministry of Missing,
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