It’s Saturday morning, and your mum’s telling you to take your little sister to the park. “Unless you want to help me mop the floor,” she adds. You get it – the park wins.
With your skateboard tucked under your arm, and your sister trailing behind on her rollerblades, you head out the door and down the footpath. “I’ll work on my grind while Carly practices her backwards skate,” you think, “and we’ll head home in time for lunch and computer games.”
Then an envelope catches your eye. It’s lying beside some bushes, half-covered with leaves, but it looks intact and rather official. You pick it up as Carly skates to a halt behind you. “What’s that letter?” she says. The front reads:
To The Finder
Tulledon Lane
Hatbottom
“It’s for you, then,” says Carly. “This is Tulledon Lane, Hatbottom, and you’re definitely The Finder. Go on – open it!”
There’s no arguing with that logic, so you slit the envelope open and pull out the letter inside. It reads:
“Thankyou for accepting our invitation. Please be advised that our driver will pick you up promptly at 2pm, Saturday, on the corner of Tulledon Lane and Thack Street. You are to bring one guest, four ping-pong balls, and a packet of paper clips.”
Carly looks at you. “What’s this about accepting an invitation?”
“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully. “I don’t remember accepting anything.”
“Well that’s pretty strange,” she says. “What are you going to do?”
If you prepare as advised for a 2pm pickup, click here.
If you scrunch up the invitation and throw it away, click here.
Written by Bronwyn at Journeys of The Fabulist
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