Yesterday evening someone rattled my letterbox. They rattled it for a short while, and waited; rattled it again for a short while, and waited... then rattled it yet again for a short while, and waited. I had the radio on, so they would have known that I was home. But I stayed sitting here and continued doing what I was doing - I didn't want any visitors. They gave up and left.
When I left for work this morning I opened the door to find a bunch of flowers on my doormat. They were a slim bunch of small lime-coloured carnations. There was neither note nor card with them, so I don't know who they were from. It would have had to have been from a neighbour though - but I don't know which one, nor what the reason was. It's nearly two weeks since my birthday, and I don't believe that I'd told anyone anyway - so it can't be that.
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