Inside an old suitcase — bought for five pounds because nobody else wanted it — were twenty letters, some photographs, and a few small, ordinary things that once belonged to someone. Every letter is addressed the same way. Every one is signed only "J."
↓ read what we found
THE CONTENTS, AS FOUND — NOW TRYING TO FIND LINDA
Nobody at the junk shop knew where the case had come from. A house clearance, probably — the kind of lot that gets sold in one job because separating it out isn't worth anyone's time.
Underneath a scarf, a chipped blue mug, and a handful of unlabelled photographs, we found the letters themselves — all sent from a place called Cwm Cothi, which is a valley in Carmarthenshire. They were all addressed to Linda. No surname. No return address. Just a first name on every envelope, and a single initial signing off each one.
They read like a man writing to his wife long after she's gone. Grief at first — raw, unfinished sentences, two mugs put out from habit. Then, slowly, across what looks like years, something steadier. A last letter that reads like a goodbye of a different kind.
I don't know who they are. I'm hoping, between us, we can find out.
— still yours, J.Each one is being read, transcribed, and shared here exactly as written. Some are ready now. The rest are still being worked through — check back, or follow along, as more are uncovered.
Cwm Cothi is a real valley. Someone, somewhere, might recognise the handwriting, the names, or the small details tucked between the lines. If anything here rings a bell — or if it simply moved you and you'd like to follow where it leads — I'd like to hear from you.