At first I thought it was the mail
man coming late, but it wasn’t.
“Ms.
Rollings?”
My
head shot up to find a lady who looked not much older than me, with an envelope
in her hand. She looked at me
inquisitively and I nodded.
“That’s
me,” I squeaked. It had been awhile
since I’d spoken.
She
approached the desk and handed me the envelope.
I took it with an almost shaking hand.
I had never received mail here and couldn’t honestly remember telling
anyone the address. The lady
paused. It seemed she was waiting for
me to open it. It had, go figure, no
return address and, interestingly enough, just my name in typed letters.
“Which
courier do you work for?” I asked,
observing her plain collared shirt.
The
lady smiled. “A small one,” she answered
curtly and turned to leave.
At
that point I was mad. I was tired of
unanswered questions and being ignored.
“Excuse
me!” I said loudly, a shortness in my
voice that could no longer be masked.
“Can you answer my question like an adult, please?”
The
lady turned to face me, her short blond hair like stone in the wind. For a split second I wondered how much hair
spray she used but was cut short by her answer, her real answer.
Her
tone crawled up my skin and made me wish I had kept silent. “Why don’t you open that envelope and read
your letter, Ms. Rollings. I daresay
you’ll find it more helpful than me.”
It
was only after the door swung shut behind her that I was able to breathe
again. My eyes floated down to my hands
still clutching the mysterious paper. I
couldn’t bring myself to open it.
Ignorance, I was learning, was not only bliss but turning out to be a
safer way of life. What was crazier was
that I still didn’t know anything. Could
someone be in danger for their mere endeavors even through lack of
accomplishment? I hadn’t done
anything…really. Maybe the letter wasn’t
a threat. Maybe that lady was just
naturally rude. I took a deep breath and
slit open the envelope.
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