I bought 18 postcards. Want one?

Eighteen postcards from cities in Brazil have been sitting on my desk. One day, for no reason at all, I decided to mail them to people around the world, friends or strangers, picked at random. If you're reading this, I'd love to send one to you.

It's my way of holding on to a bit of the physical world, far from the technology that devours personalities. A postcard takes weeks to arrive, and then it's paper in your hands.

Each card gets its own message, written by hand in my ugly handwriting. So please give me a real address. I'm doing this with care, and I'd hate to see a card get lost on its way to a street that doesn't exist.

Only 18 cards are going out from here, and I'll mail them by the last week of November. When they're gone, this page closes until I buy more.