A girl writes her younger sister.
She cannot locate her stamps.
“I just used them,” she exclaims in frustration.
“Where was the last place you remember seeing them?” he replies.
“In the oddest of places I placed them; because, how could I ever forget keeping them in such a strange place.”
He fingers through bizarre boxes she keeps, oddly bound journals she’s never opened before him.
“They are not here. But, there are words contained here. Esoteric words that are somehow more understandable than the sentences containing them. I feel as though I do not know you.”
She stops and looks upon him with exasperation.
“Do you not leave notes or stories to your future self?! Where do you leave bread crumbs, Hansel? Put my croutons back where you found them. I am not looking for their trail now.”