you're like a mystery: confusing - char

[wendy]

It’d been much too long since she’d visited the Mystery section of the library. Addison had been spending a lot of time with Science Fiction lately. Halfway through Journey to the Center of the Earth, Addison had suddenly felt rather guilty for not checking out a good Mystery recently. Immediately closing the book, she got up from her seat and went to return it to the shelf. Even as she stood there for a short second, Addison wanted to grab three more books simply from their titles. Why couldn’t she just read at the speed of light or something? Shaking her head, Addison left that aisle and made her way to the Mystery section. The Public library was a much better place to find books. Baum’s library was nice, but it just couldn’t satisfy her thirst for a good story.

The Mystery section seemed rather empty. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who’d been in a Science Fiction mood. Addison wandered aimlessly down a few aisles, browsing the titles at eye level and maybe going back if something else caught her attention. For awhile, she didn’t find anything. Maybe it was best to go back to her Sc—Oh, wait! That one up there seemed interesting enough. The Circular Staircase. It was usually titles that got her, anyway. Unfortunately, it was much too high up for her to reach. Addison tried a couple of times, standing on the tip of her toes, stretching her fingers as far as they would go. Her fingertips brushed the bottom of the binding before she landed back on her feet. “Hmph.” Addison looked around, not finding a stool or ladder in sight. That was just her luck.

She wandered away from the aisle, looking for somebody who could help her. It was just her luck that there happened to be somebody not too far away. He was lying on a table, though… Oh well! That hardly mattered. It probably meant he was an interesting person. “Excuse me?” She said once she’d reached the table. “There’s a book I can just barely reach—” There was a slight sound of contempt in her voice as if she suddenly hated her height. “Could you help me?”

notes; i actually made her two inches shorter just for this thread.

[CHARLEMAGNE FLETCHER]

Charlemagne was having a bit of a slow day today, and it wasn't necessarily getting to him, but he was quite a bit more bored than usual. He lounged atop his favorite table in the middle of the mystery section, a copy of The Collected Sherlock Holmes lifted up over his head as he read the book for the hundredth time; this time, he was reading it upside down just to change it up a bit. His bright blue eyes scanned the page lazily, a bit disinterested but simply reading it for something to do.

As usual, Charlemagne was a bit of a curiosity in and of himself. From his purple blazer to his splotchy-colored tie and obnoxiously-patterned houndstooth pants, he attracted a couple of stares as he kicked his blue-shoed foot into the air to the rhythm of some song only he could hear. He tended to be like this most of the time - off in his own world, just an observer, like he belonged somewhere else. He was far too strange to belong in this universe...right?

“Excuse me?”

Charlemagne blinked his usually-unblinking eyes in slight surprise and turned his eyes from the book to the girl, raising his eyebrows.

“There’s a book I can just barely reach—”

What was he, a library assistant? No, he was an information broker. His mouth twisted to the side in a lopsided sort of smile. This girl seemed charming enough. It gave him something to do, anyway.

“Could you help me?”

He seemed to think for a moment, contemplating. Then he took off his black plastic glasses, folded them, slipped them into his pocket, and sat up, watching her with a wide-eyed, curious expression. His mouth split into an eerie, but not frightening grin.

"I'd love to," he mused, "but first you have to answer a riddle." He repositioned himself so he was lying on his stomach, propping up his pale, pointed chin with his hands. He bent his knees and crossed his ankles in the air. "A man goes upstairs, turns out the light, and goes to bed. The next morning he comes downstairs, reads the newspaper, and then commits suicide. What happened?"[/color]


ooc: I love you.

[wendy]

Addison was a bit surprised that she hadn’t noticed his… eccentric outfit. It definitely wasn’t something she saw every day. It was interesting, though, which led to her believing all the more that he must be an interesting person. She was just fine with that. (Also, had he been reading Sherlock Holmes upside down?). Addison took a tiny step back as he sat up, expecting him to simply follow her to the bookshelf. He did no such thing, though, instead smiling at her in a rather peculiar way and staying seated upon the table. A riddle? … Well, she didn’t have anywhere to be. It couldn’t hurt to at least listen. If she couldn’t figure it out… well, she would think about that afterwards.

A man goes upstairs, turns out the light, and goes to bed. Well, that didn’t seem like such a big deal. Next morning he comes downstairs, reads the paper, and then commits suicide. For a moment, Addison gave the man a startled look. That was just… well, it was rather upsetting, really. She shook her head and looked down, focusing. Upstairs, turns out the light, goes to bed. It felt like much longer, but Addison was sure it could only have been a few minutes. Riddles weren’t her forte but she did enjoy a challenge. It was the bit about the going upstairs and then reading the newspaper that helped her along, really.

“Was he a lighthouse keeper?” She asked before pausing and realizing this was no way to answer a riddle. “By turning out the light, there was no warning for the ships which led to so many people dying. The man read this in the newspaper and—” She paused. You know, he really didn’t need to commit suicide over this. Addison shook her head, “he committed suicide.” Then again, the guilt would probably get to her to at some point. Addison gave him a half-hopeful half-irritated look. “Am I right?”

[CHARLEMAGNE FLETCHER]

For a moment, Charlemagne thought the girl was not going to answer him. After all, most people to whom Charlemagne said such a thing - if they were even brave enough to approach such an eccentrically dressed young man - usually turned and walked away. Only a brave few actually took the time to consider what he was saying and actually respond to him.

However, as he watched the girl begin to think, Charlemagne realized she was, in fact, going to play along.

“Was he a lighthouse keeper? By turning out the light, there was no warning for the ships which led to so many people dying. The man read this in the newspaper and— he committed suicide. Am I right?”

Charlemagne blinked once before his expression broke into another wide grin. "Precisely!" he crowed, swinging his legs around so they hung off the edge of the table. He swung his feet a little bit before adding to his statement. "Yes, the lighthouse keeper turned off the light in the lighthouse, and then learned the next morning that there was a wreck. He was so consumed by the guilt that he committed suicide. A bit melancholy, but an excellent riddle!" His voice had an almost sing-song quality to it on the last sentence.

It was odd to see Charlemagne on his feet. Usually, he was sitting up in a tree, or on a table or a chair, with his feet safely off the ground. It was almost, it might seem to some, that the enigmatic young man didn't need to walk, or that he just sort of disappeared and reappeared in a different place. Either he really did just that, or he was particularly swift and quiet; whatever it was, it was a rare sight to see Charlemagne walking.

However, as she had answered his riddle correctly, he was now honor-bound to get her book for her. He hopped down off the table and faced the inquisitive girl who had spoken to him. "Now, then," he said, rubbing his hands together, "where is this book you require?"[/b]

[wendy]

Yes! It was little victories like this that made Addison’s day. Not only had she solved his riddle, she was going to get help reaching her book. Then again… Addison tilted her head, thinking. He’d been reading Sherlock Holmes (upside down). Perhaps he could help her find a better Mystery book then… then… what had it even been called? Well, that certainly wouldn’t do. If she couldn’t remember the book title, it hadn’t given a good enough impression, and so there was no way she could check it out. “Quite melancholy,” she agreed, eyebrows raised a bit.

Addison turned and led the way back to the bookshelf. She was sure once she saw the book, she’d remember it had been the one she’d been interested in. Aha! “It’s there,” she pointed, “The Circular Staircase.” Addison turned to look at him, realizing he was only a few inches taller than her. Addison really hoped she’d grow a few more inches. Yes, he definitely looked like he could suggest better books. It didn’t even have to be Mystery at this point. She just wanted something new to read, something other than Science Fiction. “Unless…” she paused, briefly thinking this to be a challenge before she realized it wasn’t Matthew she was talking to. “You have any better suggestions?”

He surely would, right? If she hadn’t already read Sherlock Holmes, she would’ve considered that. Maybe she would have tried it upside down, but that was a long shot. Addison shifted on her feet, facing the bookshelf again. A few things caught her eye, but she was now mostly waiting for an answer from… had she gotten his name? “I’m Addison.” There! Now that she’d introduced herself, he would have to introduce himself, right? Right! Then she would know his name and… and maybe she could even base a character off of him in a story some day.

[CHARLEMAGNE FLETCHER]

Well, this girl clearly wasn't a customer, but who cared for that? His work wasn't really his main focus, anyway; he had enough money from his inheritance to survive without it. Nor was this girl a plaything that he could perplex for his own fun. No, she was just...a curiosity. Yes, yes, quite curious indeed. And she seemed, for use of a homonym, a curious soul, as well...

Wait, not homonym. Was it homophone? A word with two different meanings...my, my, that was something he needed to look up...

He allowed the girl to lead him over to the bookshelf and followed her eyes up to the book she was indicating. The Circular Staircase. Oh, yes, he'd read that...it had been only slightly captivating. He was certain that a girl so intelligent as this one seemed to be could do better.

"My dear girl," he said in his subtle British accent. "A mind like you needn't waste her time on a book like that, believe me. The plot is as circular as the mentioned staircase." He flashed her another one of those eerie grins. "Allow me."

And then, suddenly, he was gone.

How he could have disappeared so fast was truly a mystery, but it was clear that blinking when he was around was not terribly advisable if you wanted to know where he was.

However, he did reappear, walking, moments later, carrying a ladder. Gesturing for Addison to move out of the way, he propped the ladder up against the tall bookshelf, steadied it, and whisked up the rungs faster than a normal person. From the top of the ladder, he leaned dangerously to the side, creeping his long fingers along the edge of the bookshelf. His blue eyes were pensive. "Where, where...ah! Here we are." Grinning, he plucked an aged-looking book from the very top shelf and actually slid back down the ladder, landing squarely on his feet. He offered the book to Addison as a knave might offer a king his sword.

"This," he explained, "is a far superior work of literature."

As she introduced herself, Charlemagne straightened again, cocking his head to the side. "Addison," he repeated. "A good name. Adventurous. Thoughtful." He seemed to be considering it more deeply for a moment before realizing it was his turn to respond. "Oh!" He bowed sweepingly. "Charlemagne Fletcher. The pleasure is mine."

[wendy]

At this point, Addison would be happy with any suggestions. Somehow, The Circular Staircase sounded more and more boring the more she waited for him to retrieve it for her. Yes, there was no possible way she could read it now. It simply would not satisfy her need for a good Mystery. He could help her, she was sure. Perhaps he hung around in the Mystery section often. If that was the case, then there was a very good chance that he would have a better suggestion. Addison could hear a hint of a British accent as he spoke. Addison grinned, appreciating the description of said plot. It certainly helped in her final decision.

He was gone in the blink of an eye. Literally. One moment he was there, and the next, he’d disappeared. Addison looked around, wondering where he had disappeared to. Well, that certainly was not helpful! Addison folded her arms over her chest, frustrated, wondering what to do now. She was sure she could find a book on her own but help would’ve been nice. It was only a few minutes later that he returned with a ladder. Addison stepped aside, relieved to see that he hadn’t abandoned her. Addison watched as he climbed up the ladder (much faster than she’d ever seen anybody climb a ladder).

Addison cringed a bit, worried he’d fall off the ladder if he leaned any further. But no, he managed to stay steady, grab a book, and return to the floor without any problems. The book looked old and so she took it from him delicately, looking it over. The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett. She was disappointed to admit that she’d never heard of it. “Thank you,” she said in response to finding the book and the compliment on her name. “I am rather adventurous.” Addison looked up at him, a bit surprised that he’d bowed. She fake-curtsied in return. “It’s nice to meet you, Charlemagne.”

[CHARLEMAGNE FLETCHER]

He stepped back a little, examining her. She liked books. This was a good thing, since books were very nice things. She hadn't read Dashiell Hammett, judging by the lack of recognition as he handed her the book, and this was not a terribly bad thing; though Hammett was an accomplished mystery writer from the '30s, he didn't expect her to know that. And besides, the fact that she didn't know would make reading it all the better. God forbid he give her a book she had already read!

Charlemagne leaned against the ladder, watching her in a manner oddly reminiscent of a cat, blue eyes leering and perceptive, but more curious than anything.

"You're welcome, and you certainly seem it." He grinned at her brightly. "And it is nice to meet you as well, Addison."

Now, Charlemagne was all for adventure. He liked reading about adventure, and he liked hearing about adventure. However, he himself was not adventurous. He was happiest and most secure on his own turf and his own terms. Rarely did he ever walk into any situation on any terms but his own. He was quite stubborn about that. Things had to be to his liking, or oftentimes, he simply wouldn't participate. It was why he made a better outlet for tales of adventure, rather than an actual adventurer.

"So you are adventurous," he mused. "Had any good adventures lately with anyone?"

[wendy]

Oh, this sounded interesting. She was sure it would satisfy her craving for a good mystery book. Addison had almost flipped open to the first page to begin reading before she remembered she was still in the presence of another. Holding the book in the crook of her arm, Addison turned her attention to Charlemagne. He looked almost like… well, a cat was a good word, though she was sure she could think of something else if she had enough time. Addison couldn’t help but to tilt her head a bit haughtily, similar as to how she had when she correctly solved the riddle. She was happy to accept that she seemed adventurous. It was better than any other sort of assumptions (like how some thought she was boring. That wasn’t fair! She was the farthest thing from boring!)

Addison nodded once even though she’d already agreed to this comment. Any good adventures lately? She tilted her head and thought for a moment. Well, she considered any time spent with Matthew an adventure. Particularly if it took place outside. “I usually only ever go an adventures with one person.” She replied, wondering just how Matthew would react if she were to go on one with anybody else. “I don’t think he’d be pleased if I went with anybody but him.” Why she felt this information was necessary to Charlemagne, she wasn’t sure.

“We went on a treasure hunt recently, though!” Addison exclaimed suddenly, remembering their exploring of New York City. It had been fast-paced and confusing; at times, she would lose Matthew completely in the crowd before he either came back for her (which only happened twice) or she caught sight of him and raced to catch up (which happened most of the time). While it had been crowded and noisy, she’d had a fantastic time. “He’d found a tourist map of the city that just so happened to have an X on it.” Addison shook her head, remembering how it had only led them to some antique store.

[CHARLEMAGNE FLETCHER]

This was certainly proving to be a far more interesting day than any he'd had in a while. A good conversation was often hard to come by, and Charlemagne was not at all shy about exploiting the attentions of a partner capable of speaking close to his level. (It was very hard to speak exactly on Charlemagne's level without a deep understanding of his psyche, something no-one in history had ever possessed. However, being intelligent and curious was enough to stay at least on par with him.)

He observed the tilt of her head with his oddly intent gaze. There was something distinctively catlike about his eyes; not in the shape or the physical nature, but in the sense. Though it was scientifically proven that cats were less intelligent than dogs, there was a strange intensity, an intellect, to their unblinking, glassy eyes. But there was also a detachment to them; they were cats, not people, after all. They observed humanity as such. Charlemagne's wide, bright blue eyes shared that quality of perpetual observance. They seemed to take in every detail, note everything, see everything, though he did not voice everything.

"Just one person?" he asked, grinning. "Then I should hope you're satisfied." He tilted his head. "I imagine he might be the type to explore new horizons with." Exceedingly cryptic, as always. "I wonder, though, how you might feel if he went on adventures with anyone else? Does he?"

Blinking, he listened to the story with a level of interest and chuckled. "What an interesting adventure that must have been. But, you know, there are many treasures to find in the years gone by. I would not put so little faith in an antique shop." After a pause, he mused, "I wonder if the treasure you sought was inside...did you check?"

[wendy]

Despite Charlemagne being as interesting as he was, Addison couldn’t say no to a good book and she was finding it difficult to not open the book and start reading right then and there. It was a good thing she knew it would be incredibly rude to do so; it was what was keeping her from doing so. Addison held the book behind her, rocking on her feet, resisting the temptation of a new book. She nodded, “I am satisfied, thank you.” Addison couldn’t really imagine adventuring with anybody else. Of course, it would be interesting to find another person, but until that happened, she was perfectly happy with Matthew (… adventuring with him… of course… that’s what she meant. Of course). It didn’t help her thinking when Charlemagne gave her a puzzling comment about exploring new horizons. If she hadn’t been blushing before, she was quite sure she was now.

Addison lowered her gaze. Did she mind if he went adventuring with somebody else? Well… not really. It was in his nature and she couldn’t expect him to adventure with only her. Especially when she refused to do certain things, like going to find a baby shark for a pet. “I don’t mind,” she answered a bit uncertainly, looking up again. She pulled off what she thought was a very good nonchalant shrug. “I’m sure he does. It’s just who he is.” Addison was quite sure she didn’t mind; it probably just took some more convincing, that was all. “It’s not the same, though, if I’m adventuring with somebody else.” It amused and annoyed her which was why she rolled her eyes. Sometimes she found that quite unfair, but other times it hardly bothered her. It wasn’t like she went with somebody else often, anyway.

Addison nodded, almost excitedly. “I was actually perfectly happy to look around.” She shrugged, hardly remembering if they’d found anything of interest. If it had really been interesting, she would have bought it. Addison was positive she didn’t own anything from that particular antique shop. “I didn’t find anything I had to have, but then again, he kept complaining.” She had been rather embarrassed by his behavior and they’d left quickly enough. Maybe that was why she hadn’t found anything of interest.

[CHARLEMAGNE FLETCHER]

Charlemagne seemed to notice Addison’s urges to read the book right at that moment, but he said nothing, just looking at her out of the corner of his eye and smiling that oddly knowing smile of his. Though it did seem a bit...eccentric, there was something wise in Charlemagne’s familiar grin. It was as if he knew more than he was keen to say. Of course, this could have been simply because he was a very good information broker, but it was not that sort of wisdom. It lacked a certain smugness. Charlemagne’s knowing look was more amused, insightful, almost playful. If there was one thing he was not, it was conceited. He was very frank about his own abilities, and even franker about those of others.

“Then I’m happy for you,” he replied brightly. “No need to blush about it.” His tone was teasing, but not patronizing.

He was watching her now, his flat blue gaze intent and almost curious. His thin lips pulled up into a toothless smile, eyes narrowing slightly as he looked upon her. Some would find this level of scrutinizing chilling, but it was not intended to be uncomfortable. Charlemagne’s stare, similarly to many aspects of him, was simply catlike, not quite human. He was quirky that way, odd. It disquieted some people, but Charlemagne, just like a cat, didn’t seem to care.

“Just who he is...” He tipped his head to the side. “And how is it not the same? He’s allowed to go gallivanting about with anyone, but you are not? What kind of special adventuring is this, hmmm?” His smile widened, showing his teeth, and his expression became increasingly cryptic. “But, of course, if you are content, there is no reason to change what is already satisfactory. Just something to consider.”

His eyes seemed to drift from her as she spoke of the adventure at the antique shop, but his attention did not stray. “I do love antique shops,” Charlemagne reflected with a wistful look, leaning against a nearby bookshelf. “They are so enjoyable. Always smell like old things, too. Reminiscent. Old dead things from old dead people. It’s a bit chilling, when you think about it. The possessions of the deceased displayed for the modern world to pick at and horde. Hmmm.” He glanced up at the ceiling, as if in thought. “But it’s better it be put to some use by someone than be buried with the past, don’t you think?” A chuckle escaped him, and he shook his head. “I like old keys. I find them fascinating, don’t you? Who knows what they unlock?”

[wendy]

Addison had grown accustom to his smile by now and she was becoming rather curious about who he was. He was dressed differently, he’d been reading Sherlock Holmes upside down, and he seemed to have a knowledge of mystery novels. He was very easy to talk to, or so she thought, and he reminded her of a cat. So far, Addison was enjoying their conversation. It wasn’t often she found someone to talk to about books and adventuring (whereas normally she was reading from books and going on adventures). Her life felt so fast-paced sometimes; this was one of those slow moments, a chance to breath. She liked it.

While she’d gotten used to his grin, his gazes were sometimes still a bit unnerving. It was as if he was seeing right into her soul and he knew everything about her, things not even she knew. There was nothing wrong with that (in fact, it could be kind of cool) and she doubted it was possible; she figured it was just another thing one would have to get used to around Charlemagne. “It just feels… right.” She answered slowly, looking passed him, sub-consciously counting the books on the shelf behind him. Addison shook her head and dragged a hand through her hair. There was no need to answer any further; he seemed to be asking rhetorically. At any rate, it was certainly something she’d consider.

Addison nodded, “it was lovely in there.” She smiled, remembering how the shop lights had been a bit dim and how it had reminded her of old books (one of her favorite smells). Addison was sure, given the time, she’d have found some very interesting things in there. “I’d never thought of it like that.” Addison tilted her head, thinking about it. It was almost sad in a way. However, he did have a point. She personally hated having things go to waste. “It’s better to be giving somebody else joy than to have it sitting around, collecting dust,” she agreed. Addison laughed, “oh, definitely! I think it’d be very exciting, trying to open things and seeing what you could discover.”

[CHARLEMAGNE FLETCHER]

It was always a strange, bittersweet feeling when Charlemagne realized that a companion of his was starting to adjust to him. He had spent the majority of his life as one distinctively outside the box, outside of the boundaries of regular society, and outside most circles of friends; he had adapted to that sort of treatment and even embraced it. So whenever someone came along who could actually enjoy – or at least tolerate – his idiosyncratic personality, it was a little bit alarming, though the feeling of acceptance was somehow pleasant. And that, indeed, was interesting, since he often aimed for quite the opposite.

His life had always been naturally slow because it was the pace at which he set it. Charlemagne Fletcher had no interest in rushing about to do anything – he found it irritating, senseless, and purposeless. Perhaps it was because he had never worked a day in his life, having inherited his parents’ considerable amount of wealth, but he had a sort of unperturbed tranquility about him that spread to those to which he spoke. It was hard to feel harried if you really got into a discussion with Charlemagne.

“Well, if it feels right, I suppose it’s something to which you can stick,” he replied with another grin. “Of course, sometimes something that feels right is thought wrong, and sometimes, something that is thought right feels wrong. It’s funny how that works. Rationality and emotions. Such a distance between the two, and yet always in the balance.” He laughed one of his cryptic little laughs, fixing Addison with another soul-piercing stare.

His grin grew just a little at her description. “They are always lovely. Except for those horribly tacky ones that only carry junk from the eighties...” Snorting to himself, he scratched briefly at his ear. “The good ones always smell like my grandmother’s house and old books, do you know what I mean? That rich, musty smell of age...” He nodded sagely and sat down on a step-stool next to a shelf. “Whenever I go into an antique shop, I always make a point of buying something, even if I don’t need it. But usually I find something clever enough to suit my fancy. I’m very fond of knick-knacks, you know,” he said, and laughed, mostly to himself.

“I once bought an old key from an antique shop,” he continued, “and it actually opened an old bureau in my basement. I found a mess of old letters and pictures inside, it was magical.”
[/b]

[wendy]

Addison hadn’t expected to find somebody so interesting when all she had been doing was trying to find a book. It was a good thing she didn’t have any other plans immediately; it wasn’t often she had such thought-provoking conversations. Talking with Charlemagne was much better than curling up in a chair with a book would have been. (Okay, maybe not much better. She did love reading). If it hadn’t been for him in the first place, she wouldn’t even have a good book to read. The Maltese Falcon was a book she would actually check out. Instead of memorizing various pages of many books and coming back to read them when she had time, she would take this one home with her.

Addison had a feeling she’d have a better appreciation for Mystery novels after all of this. She’d actually make an effort while looking for new Mystery books now. She wouldn’t settle for something like The Circular Staircase just because it sounded interesting. As it were, titles weren’t everything. Oh, and it’d probably be a good idea to pull a stepladder around with her if all the good books were high up on the shelves. Unable to help the growing curiosity, Addison tilted her head and asked, “what’s your favorite Mystery novel?” Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind the sudden question and hopefully he wouldn’t ask her, because there was no way she could pick a favorite at all

Addison bit her lower lip, wondering how she’d never thought of that before. Spending time with Matthew may have felt right but it was usually during class and that right there was wrong. Ditching was bad. Perhaps she had never realized because she wasn’t looking at it from an outsiders point of view. Well, now this was a bit frustrating. Maybe she should stop abandoning class for adventuring. At least less often, anyway. “I hadn’t thought of it like that,” she muttered, almost guiltily.

Addison laughed despite not knowing which antique shops he was referencing. She’d never been to one like that (then again, she didn’t frequent them in the first place) but she did think it sounded rather tacky, as he’d put it. The very mention of the smell of old books had her smiling. It was one of her very favorite scents, along with new books and fresh ink. “I know exactly what you mean,” she nodded, gripping the book in her hands a bit tighter. Addison like the sound of that. It wasn’t like she should be spending money on things she didn’t need, but it would always make for good memories. “I think I’d like that. It’d probably be something I end up finding years later. Still, I'm guessing it'd have that sentimental feel to it.”

Addison’s eyes widened. “Wow!” She exclaimed, “that’s amazing.” It truly was. She’s consider it incredibly lucky to find a key that happened to open something you already owned. And for it to contain pictures and letters? It must’ve been a trip down memory lane. Well, if they had been of or from family. Even so, it’d be an interesting glimpse in to the past. “I’d love for that to happen to me. It’d be… well, magical.”