Summary:

Brendan sighed as he walked down the street; he wiped at his sweaty forehead, his brown hair plastered to it. He checked the time on his phone: 4:30. Basketball practice ran late and he was feeling the strain from the stitch in his side to the soreness in his legs. It was hard work but he loved it with all that he was and that made up for it, according to him. After walking for nearly 20 minutes, he finally reached the post office. He ducked inside to collect the mail from the box, relishing in the cool air.
While walking towards his house, he shuffled through the mail. Bill after bill, like he thought. He paused near the end of the stack however; there was an envelope addressed to him. In messy cursive read his name and address. There was no return address, which added to his confusion. Why send a letter if you aren’t going to add the return address?