Dean Winchester ran his thumb over the coarse paper of the envelope before tugging at the blue wax seal and opening up the letter. Out fell two pieces of paper and a Polaroid photo, handwriting slanted to the right filling pages with anecdotes and the glossy coated image of a pink-orange sunset from a motel window. Dean, I could call you or send you an email but I have recently discovered that humans enjoy having physical copies of their friends' thoughts and feelings. I hope you appreciate these letters that I decide to send you and I hope you and Sam are well. Castiel