I'm intrigued. My curiousity is piqued. I might even be a little creeped, but the jury's still out on that one.
In the post today I received an envelope. Hmm... A hand-written envelope. How odd. With a little heart-shaped sticker on the front.
I opened the envelope and found a tiny, little Valentine card — the kind handed out by eight-year-olds. A Sesame Street card with an image of Elmo painting a picture. The cloying little cliché on the cover is 'You are a work of art'.
The inside says 'I like your style'. In the from box, it says simply 'guess who'.
Hmm... Hmm... Hmm...
My interest has been captured. I don't recognise the hand-writing. My first instinct was to say that it looked feminine, but now I'm not so sure. It could simply be the work of a man writing carefully. In fact, I'm not even sure that the card and the envelope were penned by the same hand.
So far, I've deduced two things about my
stalker admirer. First off, in stating that he/she likes my style, this person has given one thing away: he/she has no style. Secondly, he/she is plainly ugly. If he/she were even moderately attractive, he/she would want me know who he/she is.
In a nutshell, I've got an admirer. A mad, ugly admirer. A mad, ugly admirer who knows my full name and address...
If you don't hear anything from me for a few days, it's because I've either:
a) been murdered in my sleep by my psych stalker; or
b) run away to Vegas for a shotgun wedding.