10022 is the winter completion of the writings and letters of 2017. I mean, my writings and letters. In fact, I really like letters a lot these days, not mine necessarily, but letters and of course postcards are the best, especially the old ones which can be so tender. There is something so sad and wonderful about someone describing the weather in San Francisco on one sunny June day to someone in Virginia when you think "Does anyone remember this day? This postcard? This person?" Someone does, and that's the wonderful part: it is not us and we will never know. Will we?