The Lost Art of Letter Writing
Pen Pals My feelings were expressed on the cream-colored scalloped-edge paper. I folded the letter in the matching envelope, licked it closed, and headed to the post office. The postmaster said it would arrive in Toronto by the end of the week. Two weeks later, I looked down the street in search of the letter carrier. Would Connie tell me to go with Bill or Gary to the Senior Prom? I depended on Connie’s advice. It wasn’t like I could pick up the phone and call Toronto.