“Hope!”
The brakes of the bicycle and someone calling her name made Hope look up from the garden.
“You have mail.”
The witch running post errands waved with a small box in her hand.
Hope dumped it on the kitchen counter, wondering who it was from. As far as she remembered she hadn’t ordered anything, and it wasn’t her birthday. Had she been in contact with anyone? No, she didn’t think so. It didn’t have a return address, only the neat label being addressed to her.
She became standing, hands on her hips, looking at the package, wondering if she should open it or not. Well, perhaps it was just the best, to kill the excitement. She pulled out a knife from the kitchen drawer and cut the tape. Gently she opened it, as among old newspapers laid a small bottle. It had a cork lid and a label, but it was blank. Along with it was a small letter, addressed to her with cursive writing. She recognized it and she with haste opened it up with the knife. It was short but made her smile brightly.
Dear Hope,
Sorry for sending this without notice, I know how you get with mystery packages. It’s just that I can’t contact you without drawing out a circle in my room or on the street and Korean people, I have noticed, are not as outgoing and crazy as us italians. I learned that the hard way. I can’t draw a circle out in public without having an old lady coming up to me and ask why I’m vandalising. For context I always do it with chalk. On asphalt.
Either way, the bottle I’m sending contains poison from the Cho-seung-dal tribe here in Korea, the poison you pulled out of my arm when we were co-hosting (Hope the potion turned out well by the way. If it didn’t you can’t blame me because I did exactly what you told me). I gave half to the Sae-boek tribe who I’m living with right now, and the other to you. According to their scientist here, the poison is directly correlating with death, probably made from pure dark mass. How this is possible is unclear, but I thought you might have fun with it. Try out and see what you can do with it. Don’t kill yourself though. I have sent along a list of characteristics that might be of help.
I will be back before the next red moon. Don’t blow up the house until then.
Mare
Ps. Ji-Hae (the vet boy) says hi.
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