Dear Reader, The Greatest of Luxuries are Our Secrets
I pick up the strange envelope and open it quietly. I don't want Mr. and Mrs. Del Rey to hear me. I've never recieved a letter in my life. I've never even celebrated a birthday, which is October 22nd.
When I open the envelope, I start reading it. It reads:
Dear Reader,
The greatest of luxuries, are our secrets. You have been inivted to The Industry. A music school of magic. Furthure information will be given notice to you.
Sincerely,
Post Malone
Headmaster of The Industry
That's odd. Very odd. Magic doesn't exist, it's just a bunch of suburban legends. But yet a letter just randomly appears under my door? I know for a fact Mr. and Mrs. Del Rey did not give me the letter. And I haven't heard anyone come inside the house. I want to ignore the letter, but something prevents me from doing it. Maybe I should just hide it for now.
I hear footsteps, and quickly hide the strange letter.
"Come out!" Mrs. Del Rey shouts.
I obey her, and quickly leave. She urges me to clean.
That night, I lay in be staring at the ceiling, think about the new letter. I find it strange, what could it mean? Eventually I loose track of time and doze off into a slumber.