You're expecting a special package to be delivered. What is it?
Response from author Lawrence Boarer Pitchford:
The old postman handed me the package; a square parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with hemp string.
"Good day," he says to me, and I shake the container once. There's something heavy inside, and it moved. The fluff of snow began falling as I made my way back to my doorway. Anticipation was growing and I nearly couldn't wait to open it. I stamped my feet, dusted off the flakes from my hair and shoulders, and went inside.
In the parlor the fire was popping and crackling, and I went straight to the mantel and took down the old hunting knife of my fathers. Taking it out of the sheath, I sliced the string. My palms were sweating as I tore the corner of the paper. Underneath, a yellow, glossy box appeared.
"Tom Spitz official Ray Gun, with Monster Destroying Power", the printing read. Unwrapping the box, I used the knife to cut open the top. Inside was splendor, more than I could have hoped. I took the gun from the box and let the container fall to the ground. It fit comfortably in my hand; the grips a fire engine red.
The creature came from my bedroom and down the hall. Its needle sharp fangs dripping an acid like venom. I took aim, depressed the trigger, and a white light blinded me. The monster burst into foamy chunks, then melted into the polished floorboards. Thank God I had the fore thought to send myself the Tom Spitz official Ray Gun on this day. Sitting down in the comfy chair next to the fire, I drank down the last of my brandy and thought.
I wonder what other amazing thing I'd send to myself, but how could I know, since I'd not sent it yet.
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