Letters—all over the world, people are writing them to each other, and have been writing them for centuries. Surely they must repeat the same phrases. Sometimes I wonder if our faces are repeated too—how do I know that a hundred years ago there wasn’t a girl who looked exactly like Chapla or that a hundred years from now there won’t be another? Why am I so sure that these letters I now almost never look at are unique? That no one ever said just this in quite this way?
