“I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

“You told me you’d say that.”

“I told you…?”

“Yes. You told me to give you this packet. You said everything would be inside.”

“But I… I’ve never… This is insane. You are insane.”

“You told me you’d say that as well. Listen, everything you need to know is in that packet, according to your own instructions. If you really don’t know what’s going on, like you claim, why don’t you just read it?”

I looked down at manilla envelope that I held in my hands. It was covered with my own handwriting, and, yet, I had never seen it before.

The man exited the coffee shop, looking a little perplexed but otherwise unperturbed.

I, on the other hand, was left looking visibly shaken. I can imagine how I looked to the waitress – mouth hanging agape, eyes open wide. And the strange, heavy, manilla envelope, covered in my own handwriting, stuffed nearly to burtsting, which supposedly held all of the answers.