I came home from school tonight to find a FedEx envelope addressed to me. It was empty save a CD, still in its shrink wrap, by someone named Sylvie Lewis. The return address was Matt Searle, Cheap Lullaby Records, Venice, CA.
Who is Matt Searle?! Who is Sylvie Lewis?! Who do I know in Venice, CA?! And how the hell did they get my address? I've combed the liner notes for clues, but there are none to be found, it would seem.
And to make things a bit odder, a but funnier... I'd left the CD playing in the kitchen as I came upstairs to write this, and Carrie just walked in:
"Your song is playing."
"What?"
"Track six. It goes, 'Isabel, what the hell, you don't write, you don't call.'"
ADDENDUM:
Thank you, Lindsay! It's lovely. And my song is ever stuck in my head :)
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2 comments:
Oh my God, I wish I were behind this!
You're welcome! Glad you're enjoying it! :)
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