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If you're who I think you are, and reading this for the purpose I think I know, I hope this story clears up some questions you have.

I feel the need to tell you that like many, this story follows the trials of life. Like life, there's ups and downs, and there's a beginning and end. I'm not quite sure where the final chapter is yet, I'm still living that part. But this particular part seems to end rather abruptly, if you ask me. But it's just the very beginning, of a much longer story that will lead and curve it's way closer to you. If you're who I think you are, then I have the feeling you're someone who thinks it's more the journey than destination. I won't spoil anything, but you probably already know the story.

I know this is quite dramatic writing, but how else am I supposed to captivate you here? You're here by choice after all. You could have just asked me about this, but here you are reading it. I've lived a long beautiful life, and like any narcissistic person, I thought you might want to read about it. No seriously, hopefully you will find this story interesting—it's not like every story tells the tale of two super soldiers.














Like any adventure starts, it starts on a day no one quite really remembers. I'm willing to bet every great adventure starts before anyone really notices it. The greatest adventures aren't announced, real ones just sneak up on you. Maybe it started on a Monday, no Tuesday, wait it was definitely Tuesday. It was late afternoon? Was it sunny? I can't remember everything about the day it began, so it must have been like every other day in my life 70ish years ago.

I probably came home from work, I was a journalist, it was my most high profile job I had ever had. It beat cleaning the toilets of rich, white old men, but it also seemed as empty as that job. I worked the exclusive local feel good section. I wrote about cats doing amazing thing, and children pleasantly surprising people. I wrote about meaningless stuff for a world searching to numb the pain with meaningless feel-good stories. For me, the adventure started with me waiting for a letter. I guess that letter was what started a new chapter in my life. It opened a new door into my regimented life to become meaningful, and I craved that. It let me explore a whole new side to myself. So I guess it began with a letter.





"Ms. Smith I am positive I have no mail for you."

"Can you please check again?" I asked annoying Mrs. Jones, the lady who ran the front desk of my apartment building in Brooklyn. Mrs. Jones didn't hide her eye roll as she shuffled her way to the back to pretend she was checking one more time for me. She walked as fast as her ancient legs could carry her, which was very slow. Her back was hunched over painfully. She had grey hair, and wore thick round glasses. She was your average grumpy grandmother. I was on absolute pins and needles for this letter. I was willing to kill for this letter. I thought if I hoped for the letter enough, it would somehow end up in my hands.

"Hi Anna!" A cheerful voice rang out.

"Hi, Lucy" I said with a sense of artificial happiness. Lucy was Mrs. Jones' granddaughter and was about a thousand times more pleasant. We looked like complete opposites, and we were. Lucy had golden blonde hair that was pinned, and curled into Hollywood looking waves. My hair was just a mundane brown, and only curly because I used rollers. Lucy had bright blue eyes and sometimes a cheery red smile (sometimes it was a rosy pink). I only wore lipstick on special occasions, it wasn't something I could afford all the time. And as for my eyes, they were as brown as my hair, nothing exciting nor alluring. My toe tapped uncontrollably on the floor as I tried to wait. The letter should have been here by now.

"Whatever you're getting in the mail must be big huh?" Lucy asked me excitedly. I nodded my head and tapped my fingers on the front desk. The letter was about a job opportunity that I wanted so badly.

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