The Chain.

The Chain.

It’s 9 am. Cold winter welcomes this morning. No sign of the bright beautiful sun. Just another morning like every other for the last sixty days. I’m sitting at the kitchen table. Breakfast. I had finished my morning run about thirty minutes ago. Needlessly I’d forgotten about the ritual of eating. Along the way home I’d gathered the post. Before diving into my bowl of healthy oats I thumb through the monotony of daily correspondence. Discard the offers of $5 off oil changes and free neck massages addressed to RESIDENT. Two for one special on Little Caesar's pizza pies. Processed cheese and cardboard crust surrounded by the imitation red sauce. Flip. Flip. Flip. A postcard from Xander. AMAZING BABY! I can hear him now in the back of my mind. My ex-roommate/best friend/you-guessed-it Sibling. He’s in Barbados. Me: Here in 40 degrees of grey colored foggy cold bliss. Him: Sun tanned. Oiled. Perfect color of warm, beneath a golden sun, side by side snorkeling with Svetlana supermodel extraordinaire. WISH YOU WERE HERE! Bullshit. I love you too Xan. Leave me alone. Trashcan? No. The fridge. Sibling blackmail. Another spoonful of sugar to make the Oaty goodness go down. Somehow the tune of Mary Poppins makes that work so much better. Bill. Blah Blah Blah. Credit card offers with incentives of coffee mugs and digital cameras. Blah Blah Blah. WAIT! What is that? Different. So very different. White. Small. Unmarked. Unsealed. Addressed to no one. Is it for me? Surely, but why not? Who. Put it aside.

Silently I continue to eat my bowl of Oats while perusing the newspaper. A man uses text message to warn of crime. Arrested as an accomplice. (OPEN!) Monkeys escape cage in zoo. Riot ensues. (LOOK!) Woman on trial wins instant celebrity for selling her twelve children on the black market. (READ!) Every chance I sneak a glimpse. Any excuse to peek. More milk. More sugar. Toast and apple butter? It could be significant. Or for Xan. That’s it! He’s always getting mysterious mail. Important. Not for me. To hell with it. Opening time. The envelope unfastens with ease. Beneath the crease lies a thin piece of paper. Sliding out the contents feels like gaining access to something top secret.

Slowly my eyes find their way through the letter. It begins with the same cordial remarks found in any other correspondence. The contents read like a twisted cry for help with no specific intended. A ghostly word by word threat extorting money and demanding intent of commitment. Promising a deadly blow to any that refuse to comply with its unholy purpose. From beginning to end, this volatile note sends the message of unlawful instigation. Closing with the final warning of certain destruction through lack of compliance. Setting the anonymous intruder aside, I attempt to fall back into my routine. But it’s not like the others. I can’t discard this. Do not ignore.

I’m haunted by its intentions. Demanding money in exchange for life. Bartering for someone’s blood. Money to stop death. Stop the killing! Please intervene or there will be more. On your conscious. Your hands are bloodied. GET Involved. The Grim Reaper is now Sally Struthers and sponsoring someone’s life will make a difference. Give your donation promptly. Or there will be more. One more dollar can save a person’s life. I don’t want this. Each day another man dies by the hands of a killer. Take action. Your dollars can spare his life. I can’t play this game. Give me Barbados. Give me free massages. Give me two for one specials on really bad food. You will live to regret your decision of NOT GETTING INVOLVED! Anything but this. You could be next!Trashcan. No guilt needed.

It’s 10 am. Finished up the routine. Newspaper offered no more entertainment than the letter of doom. I’ve fed the dog, watered the plants and shredded the unnecessary remnants of the mail. Doorbell.

Are you ready to make that donation?

Ever get a chain letter? Hate those. Yeah that's where this came from. Playing around with a few ideas and see what happens. It's been years since I've gotten a real chain letter in the mail. But thanks to technology I experience a multitude of email and text ones everyday. Did y'all like that last one? hehe. Will talk about it later. Anyhow, this is new. I hope it is appreciated. Enjoy? m.