I receive some post. This in itself is not mysterious. To be
honest, it’s happened quite a few times. But this is not addressed to me by
name. Again, something which is far from odd, but this is hand-written.
A hand-written envelope is not the method of choice for
debt-collectors or direct-marketing companies. As such, I am intrigued. But is
there not some sort of law involving opening Her Majesty’s Royal Mail? Is it
not an actual criminal offence to open mail not addressed to oneself by name?
I think about this as I open the envelope addressed to Named
Individual Who Is Not Myself, which is not my name. The Queen can fuck off. The
Royal Mail was going to be renamed Consignia at one point anyway so she can’t
be that bloody bothered.
‘Daniel’ is the Christian name of the person this envelope
should actually reach.
I find four photocopied sheets of paper, with no explanatory
covering letter. One is of ‘Guitar Chords Used In This Book’. Do they call it
tablature? I neither know nor care.
Sheet two is the lyrics and chords for the abysmal song ‘Top
Of The World’ that I had to sing at each morning’s assembly at the frightful
Church of England First School I attended. It brings to mind my cold bottom
upon the unforgivably chilly assembly hall floor.
I am now feeling uneasy.
The third sheet is similar, but this time refers to Mull of ‘fucking’ Kintyre.
I feel less uneasy.
The fourth contains the lyrics for I Have a Dream by ABBA.
Someone has hand-written the chords next to the first three lines of the lyrics
but has then gotten bored or lost the will to live and stopped.
There is nothing else. I have lived in this house for nearly
three years. Would someone sending such obviously-expected information not be
aware that the recipient had moved house some time ago? I know the previous
inhabitants and owner quite well. None of them are named Daniel.
Or is someone FUCKING WITH ME?
Next: Someone is DEFINITELY fucking with me.