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Jun. 14th, 2007 10:24 pmThe boy, whom we should probably call Peter, for that was his name, answered the door.
"Hello?"
Peter peered out of doorway and looked outside with confusion. He was sure he had just heard loud knocking at the front door. However, as was now apparent, there was no one there. Peter looked down the street. Everything seemed to be in order. It was a gorgeous summer day--the sun was shining bright, and sky was a brilliant shade of blue that made you yearn for a large pack of crayons, if only to give a name to that beautiful tint.
At the foot of the door, atop the weathered yellow plastic doormat, lay a rather nondescript small cardboard package. It was the kind of package that if you saw it laying in the street, you would assume it was a piece of neighborhood trash, and pay it no further mind. As Peter looked at the package, he noticed that his eyes seemed to slide over and around the package, as if the package was intentionally trying to not be noticed. However, Peter had no trouble at all noticing the bright red card attached to the package.
The card read: "To Peter"
Thinking that this was all a little bit odd, Peter picked up the package--which was surprisingly heavy--and closed the door.
Peter thought to open the card first, as his mother continually (and apparently futilely) tried to teach him, but then thought better of it. He ripped open the package, revealing a large, thick book. This seemed strange for two reasons. First, the book was extremely large--much larger than the package had been. Second, the title of the book was written in a language that Peter had never seen before.
Now extremely confused, Peter opened the bright red card. Inside was a sheet of white paper, on which was scrawled a single line:
"Peter -- Happy Birthday!"
This too was strange, as it was not Peter's birthday.
"Hello?"
Peter peered out of doorway and looked outside with confusion. He was sure he had just heard loud knocking at the front door. However, as was now apparent, there was no one there. Peter looked down the street. Everything seemed to be in order. It was a gorgeous summer day--the sun was shining bright, and sky was a brilliant shade of blue that made you yearn for a large pack of crayons, if only to give a name to that beautiful tint.
At the foot of the door, atop the weathered yellow plastic doormat, lay a rather nondescript small cardboard package. It was the kind of package that if you saw it laying in the street, you would assume it was a piece of neighborhood trash, and pay it no further mind. As Peter looked at the package, he noticed that his eyes seemed to slide over and around the package, as if the package was intentionally trying to not be noticed. However, Peter had no trouble at all noticing the bright red card attached to the package.
The card read: "To Peter"
Thinking that this was all a little bit odd, Peter picked up the package--which was surprisingly heavy--and closed the door.
Peter thought to open the card first, as his mother continually (and apparently futilely) tried to teach him, but then thought better of it. He ripped open the package, revealing a large, thick book. This seemed strange for two reasons. First, the book was extremely large--much larger than the package had been. Second, the title of the book was written in a language that Peter had never seen before.
Now extremely confused, Peter opened the bright red card. Inside was a sheet of white paper, on which was scrawled a single line:
"Peter -- Happy Birthday!"
This too was strange, as it was not Peter's birthday.
