the top.
I picked it up.
At first, it looked fine.
Then I turned it over.
Along the flap, so neat you could barely see it, there was a thin strip of clear tape.
I didn’t put that there.
I sealed that envelope myself in Graham’s office. I licked it. I remember the taste of the glue.
Someone had opened it. Carefully. And closed it again.
I stood there in my front hall in my house slippers, holding it, and I remembered.
In June, Cullen came to stay with me
