I lost your address.

I couldn't find a pen.

I did write. Didn't you get it?

That darned post office . . .

My computer's down.

I'm saving all my writing for my memoirs.

Writing is so limiting. I need a more expressive medium.

I guess I'm just one of those phone generation people.

Writing is not a twentieth century form of communication; I'm into a more multimedia approach.

I thought you were going to be out of town, so why send a letter when you wouldn't be there?

It would just sit in your mailbox.

You and I are fluid; we live in the moment. It would be a sacrilege to put any of our interchange into a static medium like writing.

My father is a lawyer. I've been trained never to put anything in writing.

If I wrote you and that caused a crazed, gun-toting mail carrier to come to your door and kill you, I could never forgive myself!

I only like scented stationery; but perfume is now politically incorrect.