They look like birds. Beautiful and shy, light and sincere, important and grateful. They are like birds whose element is air. When all the letters go, the messages turn into images that, like birds, seek for a flight. When a bird flaps its wing, the past is left behind. When the bird flaps its wings, the future comes closer. They soar in the sky between the past and the future. Freezing for a moment between «then» and «when», they remain unsent.
They come from within. They are looking for their purpose. How many messages are left unsent? And how to count them? Are they still stored in our memory? Who are these messages for? Who is their addressee? Who is their author? Unsent or unread? What is their flight about and when does it start?
Messages to the past. Messages for the future. Messages to others. Messages to yourself. Messages you were afraid to say about. Messages that have been forgotten. Messages that will not be sent. Messages that will not be read. Messages that will not find an answer. Messages of love.
Will messages ever find their recipients?
