When she woke up she was lying on the side of a mountain. She couldn’t remember how she got there. Lying beside her on the grass was a “Thank You” note, the generic type you get at drug stores, one of the white “Thank You” notes with the gilded silver lettering on the front that said “Thank You” in fancy script and was otherwise blank. She reached for it and flipped it open, but the writing inside wasn’t like anything she had ever seen. She was pretty sure it was extra-terrestrial writing, though she was certainly no expert in such things. Her purse was also beside her, but all the cash was gone and there was a small package of sixteen “Thank You” notes – open with one missing – that had not been there before. She wondered what had happened to the other one. The wind kicked up and startled her into awareness of the precariousness of her situation. What mountain was this? Was she far from home? Were there bears or tigers in these miles of wooded wilderness that stretched as far as the eye could see? Just then she saw bigfoot. Honest to god, it was bigfoot. He was hang-gliding.
Hello, friends. I hope you’re well.