It's hard for me to believe someone can write so well. Your letter flowed off the page, like a well thought out poem. It would take me years of solitude, and still not reach your skills. Your writing is an art, I am sure you already know this.
Thanks for putting me in Japan in 1999. You did well. For a few minutes I was a lost 29 year old girl. In the comfort of my small room. Putting emotion to paper. I could even smell the tea steeping. You put a middle aged white guy in your room writing this letter. That is a gift. Now, I want to know what happened to Nao. That is an art.
Thank you, I was not expecting this.
Dale.