The Mystery of the Sort-of Love Letter

First off: it’s not at all a love letter, but the subject is just so much catchier if I say it is.

So, I get a lot of parcels delivered to work. I’ve been credited with exponentially increasing other people’s spending habits, and I have a sneaking suspicion that the mail room hired extra staff and stopped delivering parcels to our desks soon after I started for a reason. In short, I may have a bit of a reputation at work for (perhaps?) being a shopaholic… (pssshh, they don’t even see what I buy at retail stores).

A while back, I found what I would call a moderately-sized parcel from ASOS sitting on my desk, and on top of that parcel was this note:

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At the time, I assumed it was one of my co-workers because it reeked of their sense of humour, and also because I was more preoccupied with the show and tell session a.k.a. what I bought today.

It was only recently that I discovered I had falsely accused my co-worker, and now have no idea who wrote this note! After spending an entire Friday afternoon taking handwriting samples, I’m still no closer to finding the truth.

And so it remains… the mystery of the sort-of (but not really) love letter.

To. Be. Continued.

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