A Fortunate Letter

Tywan receives a letter that may change his life

Tywan never received a letter once in his life, but someone else had plans for him. He examined the envelope with filigree spiraling from the corners to the center. Waxed emblem of an hourglass with a snake wrapped sealed the enveloped. The same symbol used by Krestfal Estates.

The contents were thick and hefty in his hands. Whatever it was packed with something.

Tywan’s nails couldn’t catch any of the edges, but kept trying at it. *What the hell could it be*, he wonder as he still tried to oepn it. Nothing was taking with any of his attempts. Like any task he had done in the past could never go the way he intended. Anything he wanted done didn’t always come as easy as for others. A hardworking man that hardly worked. Worked to spin his wheels.

He knew a hard day’s work, but he was a stranger to feeling of accomplishment.

It was wonder he ever made ends meet.

He groaned and tossed the letter aside on the existing pile on his desk. Needing a break, he reached for his coffee and took a sip of that bitter. It wasn’t that bad if you didn’t mind the taste of armpit. Adding creamer would if it weren’t for the fact the $2 creamer wasn’t that powder crap that gave coffee a gooey texture. *No thanks*, he thought and put his coffee down.

Tywan lifted the stack of bills and thumbs through of them. Someone wanted him. Too bad it was his money. Money of which he had little to none at all. *Start your own business, they said, be your own boss, they said,* he thought and scoffed as he made it rain bills on his desk.

He looked at the Krestfal envelope again, his eyes narrow under furrowed brows. Taking a deep breath and exhaling, he searched in his kitchen until he found what he was looking for, a knife. *I’ll cut that bitch open*, he smirked.

Carefully he wedged the knife in the narrow opening and slid it across. “Ah-hah!” he exclaimed, celebrating too early with the knife slicing the the envelope open. “Ugh,” he groaned. “Whatever, it’s open now.” He tore it open pulled the folded papers from within.

There was a map of Beggers’ Station, a port town to the west of his town, Keyn. Beggers’ Station was the unofficial name, regular schmucks like him knew it well. He unfolded the letter and read it to himself.

“Tywan Josue Bonito,

You are cordially invited to meet at the location marked on the map in Luboka. You are to meet a woman, her name is Cynthia. You can spot her as she will be wearing green coat with a jasmine in her sunhat. Bring her the second page of this letter which contains a message for her.

All you need to do is give her the message and you will be paid a large sum of money in the form of the amount you owe to your debtors and enough for you live a little more comfortable with better tasting coffee.

Get the job done,
Bran Schwinn Krestfal”

Tywan did a double-take with the letter because he looked at the other message of the letter for Cynthia which only had written on it “Fruits are not tomatoes” along with a doodle of a red panda.

It was weird, but what wasn’t weird is getting paid. He needed the money. A story as old as time, money motivated. He packed his satchel with his tablet, a switchblade, and his phone. And off he went to Beggers’ Station. “Let’s get paid,” was the last thing he said before shutting the door and locking it.