Whatever brought you here, consider fate possibility.
I’ve got prize$$$ to give. Zero advertisement. I need help. You arrived here. I wrote letters so real people can experience the magic of unfolding in a story.
Link my words to them.
We are connected by less than six-degrees. A letter could be for you or your acquaintance.
Now, the magic won’t work if known, in advance, who the letter’s for or who authored it. That flash happens while reading. And I do tell. ID coded: hometown, place of employment, even insta-passwords. I made one little diction flip. Non-essential. Part of the magic. Trust me. The rest, real. Untouched.
Non-fiction.
Read it. You will discover us.
I you don’t read, fine. RETWEET. Support cosmic delivery. #birdshit if you need. If you huff with, “tweet it yourself”, how foolish. I’m analog. X. “Wire-Cut.” (IYKYK)
Dare. Look it up. I don’t post. Don’t log in. Got no social tag or @link.
I can’t tweet.
Get my words home. Please.
No Real Balance 