I found a letter hidden in the raisin bread section. Which honestly? Feels right. If you’re going to emotionally ambush someone with absurd devotion, do it next to a loaf that screams “childhood toast trauma.”
The envelope said:
“Burn after reading, or frame it. I won’t know either way.”
Inside was a note to Melanie—a woman who clearly cannot be trusted with responsibility but absolutely can be trusted to make chaos beautiful. There’s a stolen dolphin named Gavin, a gas station warning that “you’ll feel in your knees,” and a reminder that the raccoons are unionizing. No further context, and none needed.
It’s sweet. It’s unhinged. It made me laugh out loud and then stare into the middle distance thinking about citrus and unresolved crimes.
If you’re Melanie, you’re probably already in trouble. If you’re not Melanie, you’ve still been warned.
I wrote it down so I could let it go,
— Elsie Thorne
(Patron Saint of Bread Aisle Secrets)
Little Ghost Post 