Mail Order Bride

I opened the door to find the courier standing on the step. He held before him a small parcel, and I could recognize the style, if not the words, of the stenciling thereon. I reached into my pocket and without looking, gave to the courier a handful of varied coin. He seemed greatly pleased as he relinquished the parcel, smiling and nodding and tipping his hat and wishing me any number of fortunes for the day.

I took the box to the kitchen. “Store in a cool, dry place.”

Using the same knife I had liberated myself with the night before, I cut away the paper wrapping and opened the flap and pushed back the lid of the carton. Within the box, resting upon a bed of moist cotton, was a forgotten piece of the puzzle that had so recently been my love.

I wept yet again as I looked upon the thing. Some trick of fate had delivered this vital piece of anatomy only hours too late. The satisfaction guarantee had expired, and I had felt I had no choice but to rid myself of that merciless, heartless creature. Had I only the patience to endure for one more day, my deliverance would have been at hand. For within the box was the most vital piece of anatomy, and indeed the very center of all human emotion, particularly love.

In the box was dear Lamia’s heart.


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