Brian–

You told me that there were beaches in New York City. That was one of so many stories I believed. Well, let me tell you, just because a place has surf and sand, that doesn’t make it a beach. I took the bus to the very end of that horrible street which, I don’t care what you think, has traffic worse than any you can find in LA, and landed not just at the end of Brooklyn, but at the very end of the world. Does that sound dramatic to you? How about this: it was the end of time. I looked down hoping to find somewhere soft to rest my head and what I found instead was a whole century collapsed around my feet. Strap-on roller skates rusted nearly to dust, horse bones bleached by a hundred years of salt, a plastic clown doll from that show my mother was on as a child, shouting her heart out from the bleachers. Can you believe—I went to the water to hypnotize myself out of thinking about you and ended up thinking about my mother? The lesser of two evils, I guess. That’s beside the point, though—that’s not why I’m writing. By the time I walked the length of the bay, I was so sad looking at all of those poor, abandoned artifacts—objects someone, at some point, probably loved—that I would have laid down among them, hepatitis, tetanus be damned. I was wearing a bikini—yes, the white one with the little strings, and yes, on the bus ride, men stared—and I just wanted to burn, to prostrate myself in the sun. But before I could spread my towel down, I saw, there on the sand, a full set of dentures. They were smooth, warm to the touch. And I wondered if you still have those dreams, the ones I used to comfort you after, where all your teeth fall out and you don’t know why. Do you?

–Sylvie

This letter posted for our Missive in a Bottle activity … write your own letter inspired by an underwater object.

To celebrate the release of the newest collection of stories from UNY contributor Ben Greenman, we invite you to write a letter about an underwater object. What He’s Poised to Do  uses letters and letter-writing to investigate human connection and disconnection. Underwater New York uses found objects as points of entry to stories that do the same. Now you can do both – here’s how:

-       Choose an underwater object from our list

-       Imagine a story behind your object, and use a letter or postcard to tell it. It can be visual art – create a postcard inspired by your object, for example – and/or written – epistolary, expository, accusatory, any-story.

-       Email your letters to submissions@underwaternewyork.com or actually mail them to 342 2nd Street, #4F, Brooklyn, NY, 11215

-       We’ll post letters here, and may share some at future events