It's been a while now since I received a letter. A letter sealed in a bottle that a "black sea" brought to my door. The sender was familiar to me. It wasn't just one person but spoke on behalf of many. Most of them were known. On the contrary, there was no recipient or rather it was nonexistent. As if the sender had written it to remain undelivered or preferred to let it fall by chance, hoping that someone would find it and keep it safe in their pocket.
The date of dispatch, although old, was quite vivid and lively: November 17th...
Year, nowhere to be found.
For thirty years now, I have been reading and rereading the letter, changing only the year: 1973-2003. And every time I discover that the letter is never the same, perhaps because it is not one, but thirty...
Dear Mitzos, but you too Makis, Periklis, Nikola, Alkmini, Vera, Giorgos, Pepi, Kostas, Dionysis, and so many others, I never met you in person. However, I know you as we have been spending Novembers together for thirty years now. [...]