A tiny moment of sweetness echoed through time and landed in my lap today. On opening an old (1957) book I acquired, a letter fell out. it was typed on tissue thin paper through a fading ribbon. Here's what it said. They don't write 'em like this any more.
Sunday May 29th 1960 7.30 a.m.
Dearest beloved Dormouse,
So very good to hear your darling voice again - you always sound like liquid sunshine, and hearing you makes the whole world better for me. Feeling down in the mouth because of this damned cold and 'flu'; and also mainly because of what I think you meant to convey to me about yourself. Never mind, my love, and I'm truly sorry . Don't worry about anything; leave me to worry hard enough for both of us.
This has to be very brief because I must drive quickly to City Square to catch the Saturday post if not already gone (today's Sunday) More tomorrow.
Lots of Love. See you soon my love.
Yours loving old