5am. Slowly, I woke up. There was an idea in my head. The room was dark, even though the shutters were open. Dawn wouldn't break for another hour. I crept out of bed, out of the warmth of Her presence, and tentatively stepped away. My idea needed to be made manifest quickly, lest it be forgotten. Treading lightly on the cold wooden floor, I made my way to the living room, sat on a couch by the window and picked up the laptop.<p>As dawn came, the preliminary work was done. It was nothing but a sketch made of computer code, but it was enough. My idea had taken root. As I went back to the bedroom, my thoughts traveled a year into the past. In that same house my grandmother still dwelt. In another city, one of my dearest friends still lived. How could we possibly have known.<p>Less than a week has passed since that chilly Saturday morning. Work has progressed swiftly. I just uploaded a little website, in fact, and created an account for myself in it. Every once in a while, a program will run on its server and send me an email. I'll click a link in it and nothing will happen. One day, though, I won't click on that link. I don't know when or why. Surely it'll be in the distant future. But it will come. And when it does, another little program will take the letters I've stored in its database and send them one by one.<p>And hopefully the people I love will find some comfort in them.