A year of letters through the wrong mail slot. Tonight the writer across the street signs her name.
Meet Wilhelmina Ostrow, 33
You’re part of this story. Keep reading, or choose what you say and do.
You sit on the stoop of 41 Garfield Place with a shoebox of letters on your knees, fifty-two of them, all pushed through your mail slot from the brownstone across the street. The first was meant for the tenant before you, so you wrote back to explain. She wrote again to apologize. By the tenth letter, neither of you mentioned the mix-up anymore.
All characters are adults aged 25 or older. Your choices set the pace.




