title by Unknown Child on Tube,
story by Jonny Flash,
He had taken a liking to Bran-Muffins. Lord knows why. He once had admitted he found them void of any flavour's trace & that they made his mouth as dry as the Sahara, but still, he insisted, Bran-Muffins were the breakfast food for him.
As part of his tradition, each Tuesday morning he would sit at the breakfast table, coffee in mug & Bran-Muffin in hand, with a letter ready for composition. He's letters were full of anything that gave him inspiration on that particular day; perhaps the subject would be the NEWS, maybe a family occasion or the curious traces left by the snails in the garden- they were a favourite topic ever since Burk (of Burk's Back Yard) had said that their trails are indicative of their mating patterns.
It's also note worthy that there were never any set-recipients. He'd write a letter, then chose who it would go so. He'd leave the space after 'Dear' blank until the last minute before sending.
Sometimes he'd write to his sons, sometimes to an old friend, but more often than not, he'd write to perfect stranger. He'd select names at random from the phone book; it gave him joy to think of the curiosity and confusion of anyone receiving a correctly named and addressed, hand-written letter, from an unknown author, containing nothing but the hum-drum drumming on of a seemingly mad-man.
Often these letters would arrive back in his post box, marked "Return to Sender", but it was obvious that they had been read, reread and read again. He imagined their faces. Their growing bemusement each time they saw the letter. He enjoyed his effect on the world, no matter how small.
Someone once said that they had received two letters from him. The first was covered in coffee splatter, it said, "I feel depressed, more and more these days"; the second letter, littered with Bran-Crumbs said, "I take it all back. There's a lot to be happy about. You'll never believe what the snails are doing".