The torn envelope
On coming back home after having done long hours in her studio, preparing her next exhibition, Kate Cindorvski stopped near her mailbox next to her cottage’s gate. As she opened it up she has found two evelopes inside, both were from the local phone company and both were addressed for her neighbors across the road. The first one was completely torn at its upper edge, with clumsy fingers. Some resident of the apartments’ building across the road must have opened it by mistake, and to save his face dropped it in her mailbox.
Alhough somewhat tired she took both evelopes, made the short journey across the road and inserted the envelopes in their proper mailboxes.
On the next day while coming back from work and cheking her mailbox as usual, she found the torn envelope inside, just like an accusing finger: ‘we know that you did it!’
It did not infuriate her but it got on her nerves. She took it, opened her gate and went straight very decisively to her front door. Once inside her home she sat next to her writing desk, took the first pen she managed to put her hand on, and scribbled on that envelope:
“I didn’t open it, that’s how I’ve found it in my mailbox. That’s why I didn’t hesitate and put it in your box in broad daylight.”
Just half an hour after she made the second trip across the road, her telephone rang.
She picked up the phone, ‘Cindrovski residence hello…’
‘We’re going to sue you!’
‘What for?’ She asked surprised.
‘You’ve the chutzpe to pretend you don’t know!’ An angry male voice answered her. ‘Tell it to the judge then, for we shall meet at court.’
‘Are you serious? Have I robbed you? Did you expect a cheque from the phone company, do they pay your calls?’
‘That’s none of your business, you tore it up and you’re going to pay for it.’
‘Oh really, see you at court then…’ She answered with a chuckle. What a stupid asshole, she told herself after hanging up.
But that night she had a nightmare. She dreamend she was summoned to court, the judge found her guilty and ordered to cut off both her hands, for being a thief – just like in Saudie Arabia.
She woke up in a start, and the first thing she did was to check her hands.
© Haim Kadman 2009 – All rights reserved
