Susan
Upon waking the next morning, Susan felt the night’s dream fade away or at least tucked back into a reservoir of dreams waiting to be pulled up again, another time.
What woke her was the doorbell ringing. How long did it ring before she could rouse out of bed, put on the fuzzy slippers she kept by her bed and the fleece robe hanging from its hook in the closet, run a comb through her night-tossed hair and go to her front door? By the time she got there and looked through the peephole, no one was there. Susan unlocked and opened the door. She looked around, but still, the hall was empty. Glancing down as she was about to close the door, she saw two letters tucked under a corner of the welcome mat: one addressed to Julie and Jeannie, another addressed to her, Susan. Neither had an address, just the names. She opened the envelope addressed to Susan.
