With cordial greetings,
[November 12, 2022]
New Jersey, Princeton
Dear Enid Sinclair,
Morning greeted me with a cacophony of pattering rain and deafening thunder, of course not out of the ordinary, except for the frantic knocking on our main door and an ear-splitting scream from (what I can only guess to be) the mailman. Peculiar, for our regular messengers know to use the mailbox conveniently hidden in the bushes by the front gate. Rising to investigate, it was of no surprise to find the breakfast table disgustingly cheerful with an added guest seated (who I can only guess to be the mailman) at my chair. He was a bumbling fool, choking on his words and looking close to bursting when Lurch placed a bowl of soup in front of him. He had screamed (not a fan of pig’s blood, I assume) and escaped after leaving your letter in my care. It was only then did I realize he was actually stuttering your name.
I do not appreciate being interrogated through mail. However, your pleasantries at the beginning do not go unnoticed. I half-expected a large block of text the same way you do on your phone but it appears the physical act of actually writing with ink has put some sense into your words. Incidentally, you are correct in your first assumption for my disappearance online (though being kidnapped by a stalker might be a very close second) in that Thing deduced the battery “died” before shortly dying a true death by Pugsley using it as a base for his recent bomb. It now occurs to me that my last correspondence with you had been close to a fortnight ago. I did not intend to, as you call it, “freak you out”.
I am, unfortunately, safe at my family manor. Frankly, I’m the one who should be appalled that you know my address to begin with. Perhaps the stalker I should be wary of is you? But I digress, the day had been outside routine and to say I did not savor it is untrue- Such a diverting morning a piece of paper can do.
With cordial greetings,
W. Addams
Enid, whose wallet was 10 dollars lighter, jumped at the sight of the mailman.
She resisted swinging the door open and grabbing the (very obviously) Wednesday-esque letter he held, knowing she was better than her urges. Though she was very lucky it was at the crack of dawn, when no one could’ve watched her trip and stumble her way from the front yard to the mailbox due to anxiety.
The need to soothe her jittery mind was too much to handle, she almost clawed the envelope open before the light of dawn spilled onto the paper. Slowly, eyes unblinking, she sheathed her colorful claws back.
Her hands caress the matte texture of the black envelope, mindful not to ruin the beautiful red wax stamp that held Wednesday’s initials. The W.A. stared at her, beckoning her, “open me carefully” it whispers.
Enid purses her lips in fear she’ll break her jaw from smiling wide so early in the morning. Letter in hand, she makes her way back inside, worries already settling down and excitement bubbling up.