In tonight's dead letter, Patrick writes to us from Northcote, a suburb on the north side of Melbourne, Australia, where his son James, thirteen at the time, took Cookie, the family's Boston terrier, out before dawn one morning in the autumn of 2024, through a reserve that used to be part of a golf course. Cookie never barks at anyone, but at the top of the hill, beside a stand of gum trees, he stopped, stared, and started to growl at something James couldn't see. Forrest is away this week, so Richard Hatem, screenwriter of The Mothman Prophecies, sits in and reads the letter.
