I park the car.
Too close to the hedge; I'm going to get moistened by it tomorrow as I tiredly and resignedly get into the car for another day of work.
Fumble at the front door. Bollocks, wrong key. Try again.
Success!
I enter, pleased with this small victory over Union locks and jumbled keys.
I poop the kettle on. Go upstairs to see if my more sloth-like house mate has managed to drag her arse out of the bed today. Like some ponderously lumbering precursor to man, rejected by god, half human, half boulder.
Her granite like fingers grasping ineffectually at the tiny white envelopes.
Except, it isn't a a tiny white envelope.
Someone has delivered a package. Inside a Tesco carrier bag I find, wrapped in 80 sheets of the Oxford Mail for some reason, a package. Labelled simply "Gav".
Nothing else.
With trepidation I begin to open this mystery package, expecting a bomb. No. Not a bomb. Anthrax maybe? There's something hard inside, and presumably a note from the sender. With mild fear of a covering of tiny white spores or fiery death, I remove the last layer.
Someone has sent me a copy of Paulo Coelho's "The Alchemist". There is no note. I go through the tattered layers of newpaper I removed. Still no note.
I open the cover. Top of the date "September 2002" is written...
...below it "I love this -it does wonders for the soul...I hope you enjoy it too!"
Something else unreadable "...of love", it's not "lots", too many letters, their flowing script lookes like "hasses". That doesn't make any sense...
"Simone xx"
All the same hand writing as the date.
Who the hell sent this!? I don't know anyone called Simone! Mild fear sets in. This was delivered by hand. I ask the rock-woman if she saw who delivered it. No.
I thumb through it, someone has underlined some of the text with a pencil. Is this for my benefit? Is there some kind of deeper message I should be taking from this? Does who ever sent this think I need some kind of help?
Unless they are a cardiologist, I'm pretty much fine thanks...
Fucking. Wierd.
I honestly have no idea who has done this. None at all. Why not leave a note? Why not say who it's from? Is there supposed to be some kind of underlying significance to the underlined text? Or is it just coincidental?
And mostly...
Why, dear reader, didn't they buy me a fucking new copy...
More exercise related paranoia tomorrow, right now, I'm too busy worrying about someone watching me...
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2 comments:
Maybe its an example of spontaneous synchronicity. Its a good book any way, more people should read it.
Hmm, maybe...or just a case of some kind of psycho wierdo. Still, can't be that bad, I'm still alive and haven't seen any eyes at the window... :)
G
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