She sent the woods to me in an envelope, an envelope I wished I never opened.
I've been getting anonymous letters for 3 months now. And I cannot say in words how much my life has been demolished by them.
Say, stranger, are you going to read her let...
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Dear Maria,
She was here yesterday. The odd lady from before. But this time she seemed unexpectedly normal. A little frantic yes, but normal.
Ordinary tan skin, grey curly hair tied in a small bun and hazel eyes. She seemed nothing like the distorted figure that I saw that day. I wonder if what I saw was just one if those vivid imaginations, I hope it was.
Maria, Mrs Percy isn't scary at all. She just came to greet her new neighbours and pamper us with her generous handmade cookies which obviously made Papa very happy(I saw him secretly nibbling on some in the kitchen). She also said she used to be a fortune teller. But the she said she was from a family of magicians who could do magic. But then she revealed she was just a granny feeding off of her son's money these days.
I guess she wasn't as normal as I thought.
She was pretty though and I was happy so I guess we both were pretty happy chatting nonsense and sipping coffee until she offered to show me some of her skills.
Maria, she is nice but I would still say she is odd, not physically but from behaviour.
She told me to choose a card, I did.
She shoved past Papa and ran out of the door screaming and cursing. I honestly couldn't tell whom she was glaring at, the card or me.
Well, she even left those cards on the table and I'm not planning on returning them for a while.
At least her cookies were safe, edible and quite delicious to be honest. I wouldn't mind trading the cards for another batch of cookies.
Maria, remember Rory? The tiny furball we picked up from the dog shelter? He is no longer the small drooling furball you knew. He now is a smaller version of a golden bear. He has become quite bigger and fatter and awfully much happier.
He jumps and rolls around all day everywhere, on the carpet, on the couch, the bed, the floor, the lawn. And lawn, yes the lawn, he loves running but since it's quite smaller than our previous one it hardly satisfies his big needs.
So Mama, tired of Rory the destroyer of furniture, finally allowed me to take him on a walk on my own to the nearby park. His long golden fur glowed under the sun when I let him loose. It was silkier, maybe a little bit shinier than before as he barked for the ball and then chased after it when thrown.
For some reason I couldn't look away from him. I couldn't help but wonder how heavy he could be. Not that I would dare to pick him up and risk a waist fracture.
But he must have gotten a lot of muscles. His skin must be a lot smoother too under that shiny coat. Thinking about him makes me have those weird urges again Maria.
I have recently read on an article that some Nigerian people still eat dogs.
