Dear Reverend Stephens,

I know you think that lab-grown organs are a sin. But please just don’t preach about it in your sermon tomorrow. You can do it any other day–just not on the day where my mom has to sign off on my surgery.

Please,

Harry Monroe

*****

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 every Tuesday.

Dear Calpernia,

I know that being a Standards Enforcer for the public sector sounds daunting. I mean, looking at the posts people flag as inappropriate *all day long*? It’s hard enough in the private sector, and it’s a whole new ball game now that things are centrally controlled by the government. Two words why you should do it though — government pension.

Sincerely,

You, a cashier at age 94

*****

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 every Tuesday.

Dear Lydia,

When it feels like the world is ending, remind yourself that you survived the Great Earthquake of 2042 and take heart. Unless you’re getting this before 2042, in which case….I’ve got good news and bad news.

Love,

Survivalist you

*****

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 every Tuesday.

Dear Agnes,

Take one step. Then another. Now you’re walking. It’s a metaphor, yes. However, it’s also advice to continuously move your joints. They’re going to make replacement joints out of a fancy alloy only found on asteroids, and you really can’t afford that stuff.

Best,

You

*****

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 every Tuesday.

Dear Liz:  Don’t take money out of your retirement account to fund Blake’s year off to find himself. Your municipal compatibility scores will show that you two shouldn’t be together anyways, so don’t waste another minute or dollar on him. -You

*****

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 my Twitter account every Tuesday. Check out @meg_a_mars or #LettersFromaFuture for more letters.

Dear Erika: Just plant the garden you want on that vacant patch of land across the street. In the next ten years the city won’t have done anything with it and the food bank will be low on vegetables. -Future Erika

*****

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 my Twitter account every Tuesday. Check out @meg_a_mars or #LettersFromaFuture for more letters.

Dear Frankie: For the love of all that is good and holy do NOT implant artificial intelligence into fire ants!!!!!! -Your terrified neighbors

*****

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 my Twitter account every Tuesday. Check out @meg_a_mars or #LettersFromaFuture for more letters.

Aria – Do not, do not, DO NOT make out with that guy who hangs out by the corner of the bar at Selkie’s. He’s just wearing a pheromone cologne that matches to your profile—you’re not actually attracted to that creep. -Future You

*****

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 my Twitter account every Tuesday. Check out @meg_a_mars or #LettersFromaFuture for more letters.

Dear Tamsen: I know you want to buy a genetically customized pet. Hold off for a few more weeks. You’re going to fall in love with the cutest stray kitten, and you won’t want an expensive creation taking away any of its attention. -Future Tamsen

*****

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 my Twitter account every Tuesday. Check out @meg_a_mars or #LettersFromaFuture for more letters.