Lettitor

Dear Reader,

When we first brainstormed the theme for this issue, we wanted an interesting way of portraying opposites. So, we gave our writers two points of inspiration: attic and basement. Our intention was for the contrast between those opposites to structure the issue. We had all these cool formatting and stylistic ideas for how we’d portray the duality — and then, we received 13 submissions. Every single one took place in the basement. 

Well, not literally of course, but there was something about each piece that felt fundamentally basement-y — something buried, or dark, or damp, or dusty, or … well, we think “basement-y” is probably the best word to describe it. 

Eventually, we realized that there was a problem with our original idea. We thought that basement and attic were far enough apart that each piece could be categorized as one or the other. But they aren’t opposites, are they? In both places, we store things so that we can remember them long term. In both, we forget what we stored anyway. Both are fundamentally empty. Both are fundamentally full. Both are echoes of the house they complete and the ghosts they hold.

But even as the two locations are connected, there’s something strange and alluring about the basement, isn’t there? Something that draws us to descend, to excavate, to unpack the things that are sealed away, to hide and breathe in the dark — a call of the void, we suppose.

The following articles have that in common. Each will hold out their hand and beckon — in various ways — for you to join them below the first floor. Whether you’d like to climb back to the surface or collect dust among forgotten things is up to you. So follow closely, bring a light, and keep your wits about you: are you a tourist or a resident?


Watch your step, 

Cipher