Dear Dr. Hamad,

You will never meet me, but you saved my life.

I know that medical research is not respected in your time. I know that you are dealing with funding cuts, and bureaucratic nonsense, and conflicting instructions from the Surgeon General and the anti-Surgeon General. It must be very frustrating.

I just wanted to send along words of support from the future. Your nano-surgery technique saved me and my baby. Reproductive medicine matters. For everyone, and for me and my little Tyriq. Thank you.

Love, love, love, from

Kenice and Tyriq

*****

PO Box 159 at the Brooksdale Post Office is a bit unusual. Every week, it receives letters from many different people from many different times in the future. Many times, the letters are well-wishes and advice from the loved ones of people of our time. Other times, there are dire warnings.

No one seems to know how or why these letters started coming to PO Box 159. They simply appear. The future these letters describe seems to be in constant flux; one day the year 2098 sounds like a dystopian hellscape, the next day a letter will appear describing a garden of Eden.

Emma Reilly, the owner of PO Box 159, shares the letters she receives through this blog (mostly) every Tuesday.