Post-Apocalypse Dead Letter Office Read Free

following my advice and haven’t kept the starts inside or someplace other than your main cultivation area, I’ve taken the precaution of sending a couple new cuttings with this letter. (Yeah, usually the couriers will bitch about hauling off anything that weighs more than a tenth of an ounce or some such shit, but you tuck a little Greenbudis greenbudis in their pocket and they’re just docile as lambs.) They’re both from a great cultivar, one that came over from the Netherlands a year or two before the all the shit went down. Can’t remember the name off the top of my head. It was some offshoot of Lebanese Blonde, but the new cultivar’s name wasn’t even remotely catchy. Some damned arbitrarically – maybe even capriciously, having known several cultivators from my time in Rotterdam – alphanumerically encoded nomenclature. Typical Dutch nonsense.

    Hey, call it MK420. Guess the numeric part doesn’t really mean much to folks nowadays. Huh. Well, leave it on anyways, as a reminder of the bad old days long past, and the bad new days that aren’t quite so bad as the bad old days... and to be capricious.

    Wink at Tammy and then apologize for me. And say hello to the kids, or not.

    Viva la revolucion verde or whatever!

    Ron G.

To: Charles Yao, Kansas City, MO

    From: The Seattle Crew, Seattle, WA

    June 8, 20+7

    Hey, Chuck! it’s Deanne, Nick and Nicole from Ballard!

    We got your previous letter, dated March 10th, just two weeks ago. Those cogboys sure seem to take their time. There can only be, what, like two or three mountain ranges in between here and KC, right? Buncha lazybodies. Ha.

    It was so wonderful to hear that you’ve finally found some work. None of us had any idea you’d done woodworking before. It’s probably nowhere near doing IT work for Schwab but we’re sure you’re a real asset to them and hope that you’re happy there. What we mean is... we’re sure you get what we mean.

    Also great to hear that you’re now engaged to Jean. She’s a very lucky lady, indeed. Deanne says you’re a very lucky son of a bitch. We REALLY did not imagine that we’d learn that you’re expecting, too. Congratulations are in order (see enclosed bottle – homemade, of course. Jean probably shouldn’t have any for another six months... then again, it may take that long to get to you.)! Things are really on the upswing for you both.

    We were all very sorry to learn about Snapdragon. Thirteen years is pretty damn good for a tabby these days, though, and we know she led a full life – for at least the five years we were around her, anyway. Still remember you bringing her home from the shelter, just a little tricolor fuzzball. When she chose one of Nick’s Bean boots as her living room – and the other as her litter box – we knew you’d picked a winner. Such a sweetie. We’re sure she’s in a better place now. (Nick just made a disgusting joke that I will not repeat here, or ever for that matter. Yeesh.)

    To get you up to speed on our doings here. Deanne is still with the mayor’s office, trying to find new ways to make life in town less shitty. I (Nicole) have been doing most of the housework, the gardening, mending, cooking and other day-to-day stuff. Never pegged me for a housewife, did you? Nick has been staying with us, happily, and working four fulltime jobs – as a gardener and freelance fisherman by day, a minstrel at dusk and our love slave by night. (“Haw haw,” says Nick.) The powers that be are trying to get the locks working again by retrofitting it to work manually, and recently got a kick in the ass about it, as there’s rumored to be a pod of orca just outside the bay. Most folks think the orca are OK, but would rather not have them near their boats or eating fish in the bay. Nick’s been assured that if/when the locks come back online, he’ll be brought back on full time. With it being manually operated, he’ll get some exercise to boot (HA!).

    He seems kind of