Not sure what you can do with this story, but here you go:
On a deserted beach on a small island near the equator, there’s a barrel and some ziploc bags. This post office has been here for more than a hundred years. It was built by whalers who needed a way to get letters home to England. The idea was that the last stop you would make on your way home was to the post office. You’d pick up whatever letters were there and bring them back to England.
I dropped two postcards in the barrel ten days ago (no stamps, of course). They arrived on Wednesday. I’m told some notes take as long as a month or two. Apparently, you can send a letter anywhere in the world and count on it showing up. There’s actually a shortage of mail… more people want to carry the letters then write them.
Ideas spread in funny ways. In this case, the joy of the person who helps out by delivering the note is probably greater than that of the sender. And the story is so irresistible for both parties that it can’t help but spread. By word of mouth or by blog…