So I wrote something

The mailman dropped a letter. And frankly, he didn’t care. This was the mailman’s last day. The letter had no use to him.

But it did to the little boy who was watching through the bushes. But instead of giving this letter to his mother or the police, or even running after the mailman. He kept this letter.

Years later, the tired college bound student was pacing up to go to California to attend Stanford. As he was cleaning out his room, deciding what books to take, a single envelope fell from the cracks between book covers. He had completely forgotten about this letter, from so many years ago. Deciding that no harm could be done from reading the letter, he tore open the violet envelope. As his eyes scanned the envelope, they widened in surprise. While the sender note was obscured in black pen, the body of the letter was fully intact.

President Barrack Obama will be arriving from England in three days, at midnight. The deed must be done swiftly, and no evidence must be left behind. Burn the letter as soon as you have read it. What do your daughters like? I must get them something the next time I visit your family.” 

They were plotting to kill the then President Barrack Obama! How strange to think that if the mailman had never dropped this letter, that a president would have been assassinated? And if the boy had never picked it up, two people would be have been arrested,  two families destroyed? The college boy shrugged as he burned the letter.

Better safe than sorry: if the police found him with the letter, they might have gotten the wrong message.

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