I have no way of knowing if this letter will reach you, as the distance between us is so very far and so very troublesome. This small piece of stationery must cross mountains and cafeterias, in the trunks of automobiles and in the waterproof pockets of long-distance swimmers, tucked into envelopes and folded into swans, in order to make its way to your small, dusty office on the thirteenth floor of one of the nine dreariest builings in the city. All I can do is hope for the best, but hoping for the best, like hoping for a bat to obey your orders, almost always leads to disappointment

-The Beatrice Letters