An Expected Surprise It was a confluence of events that led Harold into a state of anxiety and paranoia, all leading to an expected surprise. Prologue In the bleakness of an early winter morning, an apparition manifested on private property. They went unnoticed by any neighbors or nearby security footage. The figure retrieved from their coat pocket a small envelope. They located the mail slot in the door and delivered, far before any self-respecting mailman would even consider such a move. The figure took a brief peek inside the living room window before disappearing into the night… Only an unassuming black cat witnessed the event in the dead of morning. But after a solemn wave from the ghost, it too vanished into the night, only to reappear when the time was right… * Chapter One The Letter Harold woke from a singular dream. In his dream he was in the ocean, and his purpose underseas was to teach English to a school of dolphins. He imagined the students appreciated his efforts, but also feared them chattering behind his back. In front of his class, he choked on some salt water and doubled down. The students swam away confident he couldn’t stop them… Harold grasped for air as he rolled out of bed. He was beginning to put on a few pounds as he grew older, but still had a few years before he’d consider it a problem. The odd dream had kept him from his usual phone alarm on this Thursday morning, so he booked it for the shower. Harold was a good worker, always on time. Even if it wasn’t a principle others held in such high regard, he prided himself on at least showing up ready to go. His stable work allowed him to finance the two-story house he was living in. Sure, the place was nothing fancy, a straight Dursley’s out of Harry Potter, but it had space and an old-fashioned charm he enjoyed. He even refurbished a spare room into his music studio. After a hastened morning routine, Harold bounced down the steps. He did so in that carefree manner endearing to those who didn’t know him well. With those who got closer however, specifically in the romance department, they usually went their own way over time… His last relationship was a bit more complicated, but Harold had long put that era behind him. As he made his way down the stairwell that morning, a curious sight caught his attention: a crisp-white envelope, perched right there in his mail slot. He considered for a moment whether it was his own birthday. Harold trudged down the remaining steps and snatched up what appeared to be just that: a birthday card. But who sends mail anymore? Even most bills and advertisements were configured online these days. ‘To Harold’ it read. He noted the lack of stamp or return address. Harold frowned and flung it down on the kitchen table, opting for some breakfast before the morning intrigue. Some scrambled eggs and local news later, he picked it up again. Probably from grandma, he thought, before ripping the card from the envelope. The card had a dull pink background with a simple rose on the cover, exactly the type of card his grandma might pick out. The card was also scented, of course. “Cupcakes…” he said in a trance, before looking back down to see what it read. And it were those inner contents of the card which were most-provoking. Choice words, which turned the unmarked postage from kind of odd to downright bizarre. In the same scrawled marker read a cryptic message: “In seven days, you shall receive a long-expected surprise. Can’t wait to see you! Expect me.” And that was it. Just the rose on the card, the message, and the lingering (but weirdly strong) aroma of stale cupcakes. Harold decided he would need a second opinion. He looked to the arguing panelists on television, as if they might have an equally-confident solution to this problem. He picked up his screen-cracked iPhone 8 and called his friend Tristan, who picked up on the third ring. “Yee-ello” said the phone. “What’s up man, you got a minute?” “Ah, hey Harry. Actually, I’m kind of running behind, but I can throw you on the speaker while I brush my teeth. You’ll just have to do most of the talking.” “Works for me.” Harold cleared his throat. “So, I got this card in the mail this morning… and it smells like cupcakes…” As he talked, he found the edge in his own voice a bit ridiculous. It was just a letter. But still, how about a text message? Or even email? And really, who could have sent something so weird without even a signature? “Bro…” Tristan garbled through his toothpaste. “That sounds like some The Ring shit. That movie where the girl crawls out of the tv and goes ‘YOU WILL DIE IN SEVEN DAYS’ and then murks people and shit?” Harold couldn’t help but smile. Tristan had mimicked the girl from the well’s voice perfectly, even through the toothpaste. But the off-handed reference also gave Harold some pause. What was with the ‘seven days’? “Yeah…” Harold started, “I mean, I just don’t really know what to make of it.” “You can’t think of anyone it could be?” “No. This is weird. Feels like a prank or something.” “Well maybe that’s it.” said Tristan, catching on to Harold’s confusion. “Look, what if I stop by after work later and check it out. We can even watch the game tonight. Bucks are playing the Grizzlies. Maybe sip some brews? It is Thirsty Thursday, after all.” Harold could picture the smirk over the phone call. Tristan was a horrible basketball player, but he loved the NBA. He actually got his friend-group nickname when they played regularly years back. ‘Trist missed’ became an inside joke. “Thirsty Thursday, I’m game” said Harold. “I’ll hit you up later. Wanna snag a few on the way?” Harold was glad to have someone to talk to. Plus, now he had something to look forward to after work. Wasn’t every day. But he felt no better about the situation. What could the letter mean? Who was coming to see him? At least an old friend could do the courtesy of dropping their name. Harold slid the letter into his workbag and prepared to get on his way. He might still make good time. Now strapped into his idling car, Harold gave an upward glance up at his reflection in the mirror. It was the first he’d seen of himself all morning. Looking good, he thought, adjusting his hair a bit before speeding off. He wondered on his drive if this letter nonsense had anything to do with those damn dolphins… * Thanks for listening, and more to come. That’s chapter one, and the prologue. I’ll be coming out with more chapters, and I appreciate y’all following along. Thank you very much. Get full access to Wilde Revival at wilderevival.substack.com/subscribe
