'To The Person Who Kept My Amazon Package' by Suzanne Hicks

It should go without saying that it’s incredibly unneighborly to keep a package mistakenly delivered to your home. I’ve posted on the usual social media platforms, pleading for its return, but now that two weeks have passed, I’m assuming you’ve opened it. If that’s the case, I feel the need to explain myself because if you’ve seen the contents of the box, perhaps I appear to be some sort of weirdo. Like, who would order something like that? Or maybe you think I purchased it as a joke gift. But the truth is, I did not. Have you ever wanted to re-create a moment? Go back to a perfect sliver of time in your life that changed everything? Well, there was this one perfect night in college. The Doors were playing, and the room was filled with pot smoke and nag champa. It was the night I met my husband. We laughed the entire night, and it wasn’t just the weed. Our 25th anniversary is coming up, and I bought Morrison Hotel on vinyl, some nag champa incense cones, and the boob lady incense burner that infuses the air through the smoke that cascades from her nipples. I laughed to tears when I saw it, just like that night in college. I know it might not seem like a traditional way to celebrate 25 years of marriage, but the laughter is everything. So please, dear neighbor, if you have my boob lady incense burner, I just want it in time for our anniversary next week. You can just leave it on the porch. Used or unused. No questions asked. Because maybe you don’t think I’m a weirdo. Perhaps you just needed a good laugh, too.