The mystery letter

One man's solitude is disrupted by a letter from a stranger

Early this year a man in Vermont received a very puzzling letter.

It was late in January and the snow was finally clearing. For months the weather had been so bad Angelo’s mail hadn’t been delivered to his remote, isolated cabin.

But then one day the letters arrived in one big pile. It was mostly boring stuff – bills, brochures, and the usual. But there was one letter which had been sent from overseas. There was a name on the back, but it wasn’t one he recognised.

Puzzled, Angelo took the envelope into the cabin, and opened it.

Inside there was a letter, addressed to him again by name, which spoke in detail about this person’s year. It talked about their job, their travels, and their life in a country that Angelo had never visited.

They signed it off with their name, and the message “P.S – hope cabin life is treating you well!”

This put Angelo in a total spin.

Was this AI…? A bizarre marketing stunt? But who would spend that time and money? None of it made sense.

Angelo went to a computer and typed this person’s name into the search engine. There were a few results, but nothing stood out. If this was an attempt at a viral campaign, the company had done a poor job of it.

The whole incident was so bizarre, he enlisted two friends to help sleuth through the internet for some answers.

“If this is AI I’m going to throw my phone into the lake and get a landline,” he told them.

The breakthrough eventually happened when someone reactivated an old Facebook account, and found a person with the same name as the mystery letter sender. Crucially, this stranger had a friend in common with Angelo — a man called Tom.

“Hey, did you sign me up for an Australian Christmas newsletter from someone called Stephanie Coombes?” Angelo asked Tom. “I am absolutely perplexed as to who the fuck this woman is. She just sent me a long letter.”

“Who is Stephanie Coombes?” Tom asked.

“Fuck off,” was his reply. “You’re friends on Facebook.”

This was perhaps my favourite bit of mischief from this year. Tom, knowing I was sending out my annual letter, gave me his friend’s address and a bit of information about his life. Just enough to bamboozle him.

If you’ve followed me for a while you probably know that every December I send a letter – to whoever wants it – about the last year.

Why? Well, it’s a bit of a long story.

Perhaps this was just specific to people in my circle, but there was a time when elderly relatives and family friends would send out long, meandering letters around Christmas and New Years.

My favourite ones would list medical news and tragic deaths of people you’d never heard of alongside incredibly banal family updates. Yes, neighbour Beryl passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack. Very sad. But also, did you hear that my grandkid was a turkey in the school Christmas play?

I found this to be so hilarious, I started to do my own. That was at least five years ago.

If you want a letter, I’ll send you one.

We don’t have to know each other. It won’t cost you anything. You don’t even have to enjoy it.

All I need is your address. You can send it to me using this form linked here.

You’re probably worried that once I’m in possession of your address, I’ll spam you with junk mail from now until one of us dies. Perhaps this would be a valid concern, if it didn’t cost $1.70 to send a letter in Australia these days. I have rent to pay. You’ll be getting one letter, and that’s it. They’ll arrive sometime after Christmas.

Angelo and I became penpals for a while after our unlikely introduction. Perhaps we’ll become friends as well.

There’s only one way to find out.