The postman put the letter though the letterbox at 08:45 on a Monday morning. It was delivered to the right address. The postman wandered off down the garden path, whistling, whilst wondering who would have sent a letter to an old, run-down, abandoned house. Just doing his job. He never noticed the old woman who had been walking slowly behind him, as she had been for the best part of a month now. The old woman sighed with a sense of relief when she saw the letter, at last, delivered. She turned and went on her way once more.

The letter was incredibly light and fluttered to the floor to rest on a large pile of other neglected and unopened mail. The little brown envelope sat there for a long, long, time. It had had quite a journey to get this far, and now it had some waiting to do. It was very patient, after all it was just a letter.

* * *
The little house went up for auction on a Monday morning. It was bid on by a young, newly married couple as a 'fixer upper'. The survey showed it was structurally sound and just about liveable. When they went to view the property, the agent grandly opened the door, pushing it wide. The letter flew from the pile and skittered across the dusty wooden floor, coming to rest under a dilapidated old dresser which lay lop-sided against the wall. The rest of the mail was gathered together by the agent who had a quick rifle through it before dropping it in the bin. They loved the little house with its quirky features and homely feel. They were ecstatic when no one else bid on the property and they snapped it up. At last, a home of their own.

Thirty days after signing the completion forms, they took possession of the keys. Kate and Dom could not have been happier. Over the next month or so, they worked diligently on the little house. They tidied up the garden; repainted the siding; replaced the missing shingles on the roof; and built a white picket fence around the property. It was chocolate box beautiful. The old woman walked past every day at the same time so as not to arouse suspicion. It had been a long time since she had seen the house looking so beautiful, just as she remembered it.

Unfortunately Dom had to go back to work. He was a lab assistant at the local medical research facility at the outskirts of the town. It was interesting work. Some of the research was a little peculiar but the facility got a lot of government funding so they had to diversify a little. A few locked doors and whispered conversations. His supervisor was thinking of offering him a promotion which would mean a move to the 'classified' projects department. Dom wasn't so sure. Anyway, with money running low for the refurbishments, he couldn't afford much more time off.

This left Kate alone to carry on renovating the home as best she could on her own. Of course, it was kitchen and bathroom first. The essentials. At least the plumbing had been sound! There was an old 1960's style fridge-freezer which was still serviceable and suited their retro-chic style well. She had trawled the thrift stores and markets looking for various paraphernalia to decorate the house. There were prints from the thirties and forties. Kate was a very happy young woman in this regard.

She stood in the lounge area and looked sadly at the dilapidated old dresser leaning against the wall. Dom just wouldn't let her get rid of it. "It's got character," he kept saying. When he had some time he was going to fix it up. Kate missed him not being around. If he took that promotion at work, it would be more money but she feared more hours too. What use would a home be if only one of us lived in it, she sighed.

Kate ran a duster along the top of the dresser. It wasn't in too bad condition really. She tripped on one of the slightly raised floor boards and fell to the ground. As she was getting up, she noticed a smallish brown envelope covered in dust under the dresser. She lay down flat and stretched out her left arm. She just managed to get a couple of fingers onto it and slide it back across the floor towards herself.

The envelope looked very old, dusty and stained. It was curling at the edges. Kate used the duster to brush off the cobwebs. The first thing that caught her eye was the stamp and postmark. It appeared to have been posted on 21st September 1995. Very strange, she thought, that is my date of birth. What a strange co-incidence. As Kate continued to wipe the dirt off the envelope, she saw that there was only one address on it. The address of this little house. Most people would include a return address on the back, surely, she thought.

Just then, she thought she heard noise coming from the front garden. She set the envelope down on top of the dresser and went to the front door to investigate. She stepped outside, onto the little stepping stone path but there was nothing to be seen, except for the old lady out for her afternoon walk. Well, thought Kate, she must be feeling adventurous, on this side of the pavement today. Without another thought, Kate went back inside.

She retrieved the envelope, and sat down on the sofa. She cleaned the last bit of dirt off it. Kate froze. She stared at the envelope in total and utter disbelief. Her name and address were beautifully hand-written across the envelope. This was strange enough but what had caused the temporary paralysis for Kate was that it was written in her hand-writing. She couldn't move. She just sat and stared. What was going on? How was this possible? What did it mean? Questions tumbled like acrobats through her mind but without their precision or grace. One question forced its way to the surface, shouting and holding back the others.

What is inside?

Kate did not know what to do. Should I wait for Dom to return? Should I open it? What does all this mean? Her hands became clammy and she could feel the cold sweat running down her back and from under her arms, sending icy trickles down her sides. Her head was spinning. What should I do?

Kate, with a great deal of effort, managed to stand. She needed a drink. Cold water in the fridge. She glanced up and through the window saw the old woman staring straight back at her.

"WHAT IS GOING ON?" she shouted out loud.

She slumped back into the sofa, completely drained. She looked up but there was no one there. No old woman staring in at her. Jesus, she thought, what is happening? She stared down at the letter again. With trembling hands, she tried to prise open the flap of the envelope but it wouldn't move. Kate started laughing at the absurdity of the situation. She managed to stand again and walked to the kitchen on unsteady legs to get a knife. She sliced through the envelope, leaving a very jagged edge. A single strip of paper was inside.

Kate looked at the yellowed paper. Seven words were written on it in her writing. Seven simple words. Kate couldn't read them. She couldn't get her eyes to focus. She turned to the fridge to get some cold water. She didn't even have the strength to break the seal on the bottle. She started to sob. She let the tap run for a few seconds then grabbed a glass from the side and filled it from the tap. She drank it where she stood, propping herself against the sink.

Her head was thumping but her heart rate was slowing a little. She stopped crying and blinked several times. She stared down at the slip of paper again as it slowly came back into focus.

The seven words became clear. The following words were written on the paper

'Do Not Let Dom Take The Promotion.'

Kate fell to the floor once more, in disbelief. She turned the paper over in her hands but the other side was completely blank. Her mind was racing. Her mind was replaying the last 20 minutes of her life over again, trying to make some sense out of it.

Finding the envelope; seeing the postmark of her birthday; her hand-writing; her name and address written there; the small slip of yellowed paper; and the seven simple words. But, yet she knew there was more. Her mind reached for it, for something... There was something else she was forgetting.

The Old Woman; seeing her every day, walking the same route at the same time; today was different, she was on this side of the pavement; seeing her staring through the window...

Kate leapt from the floor, allowing the envelope and slip of paper to float to the kitchen floor. She threw back the front door, splintering its hinges in the process, and bolted outside. Kate sprinted through the surrounding streets looking, searching for the old woman but she was nowhere to be seen. Forlornly, Kate returned to the house. She called Dom at work and asked him to come home immediately. She said she would explain when he got home.

Kate went to the kitchen to retrieve the envelope and note. It wasn't there. She was sure it was on the kitchen floor. No luck. Kate ran through the house looking for it but it was nowhere to be seen. What would Dom think if she told him this story without the note? He would think she was mad. She sat on the sofa to think. What about Dom's possible promotion? It was only medical research, wasn't it?

Kate was still sat on the sofa when Dom rushed in.

"What happened to the door?" He asked.

"It doesn't matter. I have had the strangest day," Kate answered him, before crying into his arms, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Kate and Dom talked through the night about what they wanted to do. Dom admitted he didn't really want the promotion anyway, if they could manage on the money they had. Kate said they could. Time together was more important anyway. They eventually drifted off to sleep in each other's arms as newly wedded folk should do.

The old lady was alone in her tiny little house, six blocks away from Dom and Kate's house. That night, she was filled with an overwhelming sense of relief and joy. The numbered tattoo on her left wrist faded away first, gradually followed by the rest of her, as she simply ceased to be.