Glimpse To The Future
Every day, the first thing I do once I get home from school is check the mail. Sharp scoffs when there is none, and a happy chirp thing I do when there is. My mom calls it my pigeon call, which I guess is because in the olden days people would use messenger pigeons to send messages.
But anyway, today was different. For one, I had a very awful day at school. I overslept and then my dad couldn’t take me to school, so I had to run. I was sweaty and almost late, with just enough time to grab my chemistry book out of my locker. I got a C on my chemistry test because I couldn’t get enough sleep the night before I took it. It dropped my A to a high C. Then, in between classes, some seniors came over and started saying I looked like a leprechaun because I’m short with long red hair.
Today, already in a pouty mood, I opened up the little black mailbox and immediately gagged. “Oh my gosh, did somebody mail us a freaking dead rat?” I exclaimed, because that’s exactly what it smelt like.
Inside there was a little envelope, but that’s it. It wasn’t big enough to have a dead rat, but it still smelt absolutely disgusting. Covering my freckled nose, I withdrew the envelope and shut the mailbox. I felt really bad for the mail delivery guy.
I slowly ascended up the driveway, sliding my pale thumb under the sticker keeping the pale yellow paper shut. I took in a breath and then removed my hand from my nose to open the letter inside. By that time I had entered the house and was taking my usual seat by the window at the table. My mom walked in and gagged just as I did.
“Ew!” She shouted, alarmed. “That’s disgusting! Riley, what IS that smell?”
“This envelope,” I state simply, holding up the letter.
“Well, what’s in the envelope?”
“Dunno.”
“Read it!” Mom raises her eyebrows and gives the letter in my hands a pointed glance.
“Okay, okay,” I open it up and lean back in my wood chair. “Dear Riley,” I read aloud, “my name is Mary Brown. I come from 100 years in the past. Write me back, darling.”
“What?” My mom rubs her forehead. “How do you know this woman?”
“I don’t! Honest!” This is crazy. Why me? I don’t have the patience for this today.
“Write her back, honey, what’ll it hurt?” Mom walks over and kisses my head. “I gotta get back to work. Love you.”
“Okay,” I hesitate, but lean to pick up a pen. “Hello, Mary Brown. I’m not sure what you would like me to talk about, so I’ll tell you about my day.
Today, my alarm clock didn’t work. I woke up thirty minutes behind schedule and couldn’t even change out of my baggy pajama pants. Luckily, it’s a style nowadays. I threw some deodorant and a black T-shirt and left for school. I’m a sophomore in high school. I had to run to get there on time, so I arrived all sweaty. You’re so lucky you’re before the time of global warming and whatnot.
Next, our teacher passed out our latest chemistry tests. I got a C. I was upset by my score and shed a few tears- but only a few. So then I went into the restroom to fix my mascara , but two seniors started making fun of my red hair. They called me a leprechaun.
The rest of my day was normal, I guess. I hope your day is going well, though. I imagine it was lots of trouble to send this letter- though did you realize how bad it smelt? No offense, but I thought you sent a dead rat.
Well, bye for now, Mary Brown.
-Riley Raquiet”
Bright and early the next day, I slipped my envelope in the mailbox and stood the little red flag up. I felt good about this, though it was probably just a prank letter.
Oh well. I wasn’t letting anything today stop me.