A Letter from a Stranger (1)

It was a hot afternoon. Everything burned white-hot under the sun. Evaporated water droplets were blown toward Avalon by the lazy ocean breeze, adding to the suffocating humidity. As everyone sweated in the humid climate, the entire city smelled like burnt stew.

But the library of an exquisite mansion uptown was filled with cool air. A steady stream of air conditioning blew in from the pipes, making it possible to be comfortable even in the summer heat. An aged man sat behind the table. He wore a monocle and was entirely focused on cleaning his beloved pipe. Panicked footsteps suddenly sounded outside the door. He looked up, furrowing his brow, to see his old housekeeper push the door open hurriedly. 

The housekeeper was drenched in sweat, and he looked shocked. He looked at his master in fear, unable to speak. He panted as if he had run all the way from the gate. He was shaken, as if he had been running for his life, and gripped a letter in his hands.