No return address, curious. I run my finger over the pointed top of the envelope, my name inked diligently below on the broad side in an enchanting cursive. The wax seal on the inverse panel glistens in the light as I turn the folded parchment over & over in my hands. Occasionally my fingertips caress the soft compress leaving behind a sensation of comfort & familiarity. Upon turning my attention back to the pressed fastening it stands out to me that the indentation of the seal is foreign to me, an unknown entity or house that I have yet to come across or that has possibly slipped my mind. I reach for my letter opener, the blunted blade is cold in my hands sending pin pricked goosebumps down my wrist. I press the tip of the instrument firmly under the binding, then hesitate to take in the insignia of my mysterious sender once more. One fell swoop & the letter is free, springing from its paper imprisonment & cascading folded sheets onto the floor. Casting the newly vacated envelope aside I reach anxiously for the message, wary of what news it may bring.