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I guess I better stop sending bar coasters as postcards...although maybe it will still come...in 20 years.
Yesterday I took a pseudo-postcard bar coaster from the stack at the bar, wrote in a little letter, and put it back for the next patron to find. For those curious, the man writing the letter was named James. He was trapped in the snow in a mountain pass and writing his mother. He hoped she would send supplies soon. His best dog had just died, and he feared that, for their survival, he and the rest of his team would have to do - the unnamed worst.