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  • Upon arriving home from work on a rainy evening, my wife, Brandi, and I noticed our mailbox was open. We had to carry some things into the house, but I made a mental note to go back out and check the mail ASAP, lest it get more wet than it probably already was.

    A short time later, I went back out to check it. The mailbox was closed and empty. Brandi had beaten me to it. Out of the corner of my eye, however, I saw a white envelope on our lawn, soaked through by the rain.

    Had it blown out of our mailbox? I picked it up, being careful not to tear it, and saw that wasn't addressed to us. It was from a local credit union and had a lady's name on it. The number was for a house that would be a few doors down from ours on the opposite side of the street

    I don't even know who this person is or even which house this address refers to with out walking down the street checking mailboxes. In fact, I don't know anyone's name or address on our street. Or our neighborhood.

    My family has lived here for two years.

    The envelope is drying on the floor near our front door. I'll stick it in the proper mailbox tomorrow. I doubt I'll knock on the door.
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