Edwin believes every important conversation deserves a second draft.
So he writes them.
Letters to old friends. Replies to people who never asked. Thank-you notes to strangers whose names he never learned.
He folds each page carefully, writes an address he'll never post it to, and places it inside a wooden box by the window.
The box is almost full.
He says it isn't because he's afraid of sending them.
He just likes living in a world where every feeling eventually found the right words.