The Giving Spree

When I was young, every year on November 2, I’d get an anonymous gift.

Sometimes it would arrive by mail with no return address. Sometimes it would be left on the front doorstep, on the back porch or somewhere else I’d be sure to find it. Once, it came via a special courier who was dressed in a gorilla suit.

I never knew who sent these presents and I stopped getting them when I was seventeen. I used to imagine they were sent by my real parents who couldn’t acknowledge my existence because they were royalty or cool superhero adventurers off in a parallel dimension or something.  That still sounds like the most likely explanation.

Hey, prove me wrong.

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