Letters to a stranger, are letters written between Holloway, a fictive friend, and myself.
Holloway has several connotations and is as much a figment of the concrete as he is a fantasy.
He is like a personal Bukowski, being older, beardy, brawly and who loves whisky. He is very kind, authentic, speaks like a southerner but has family in England. He walks with a stick and has a wooden swing bench on his porch.
It is from sitting together on this porch that the letters between he and I developed.
It has been a long while since I last saw him, and so I miss him. I also feel scared of losing him to age or drinking, and it is because of this feeling of nostalgic melancoly, that I write him letters, and that he writes me back. It doesn't happen as much as I write him, but when he does, it makes my day.
Af: Camilla Howalt