The package came, mysterious and brown-parcel normal on an afternoon like the one before it. And the one before that. And the one before that. For weeks, singular pictures had been showing up in the mailbox with one or two line notes attached that seemed unrelated to the images; daily devotionals from strangers with no return addresses and no explanations. Some notes were short, others two sentences long, but all were somewhat cryptic in their own linguistically meandering way.

The simplicity of the message complicated the meaning infinitely. Four words: “You Are Completely Remarkable,” could be read a thousand ways with even more inflections possible. The image of modestly skirted legs and old shoes triggered the memories of childhood and Saturday sun-tastings. The picture was blurry and taped on to the parcel completely to prevent a possible rainstorm from ruining the message.

Rather than being an annoyance, these parcels had become an object of anticipation and excitement in an otherwise uneventful day, so it was hard to simply shrug them off as weird. The writing was always different as well, so it couldn’t have been the same person anyway, oddity that it seemed to be. It was always one, never more, over-postaged with two stamps in the upper right corner and a sticker of some sort along the back flap.

The packages were saved after the cards were removed and an entire room had been designed around the influx of one-liners and pictures now stuck in perfect patterns on the wall within. Another couple of inches all around and the room would be covered. Most of the images were clear and concise, but others were blurry or confusing and blotted out, but the words were what made the walk to the mailbox worth it every day. The red flag would go down on the metal container and a spring would find itself in each footstep closer to home as eyes scanned every daily bit of linguistic art sent from who knew where and for what purpose, but the end result was always the same; a calm smile before bed and after waking.

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