There was something about a letter, a postcard. It just felt different. Partly of course it was the fact he’d had to find a way to get it through her door. Her parents told her about the days of “post” but that was long ago. Now he had to deliver it himself. Secretly. The words somehow felt more romantic written down. Typed of course but he’d even found a pen to sign it. Cute! He had a way with language. The words touched her as if he knew her. She was strangely glad she couldn’t check if they were his.