Shannon Lemire

Mailbox #7205

I flip the package over a few times, hunting for anything—an imprint, a smudge, a clue—that might reveal what’s inside or who sent it. Whoever did this knows me well enough to avoid the traditional route: no postmark, no return address, no stamps. Just a drone drop and a name written in thick black marker. The clear, wide tape is laid down with care, sealing the end and back seams so neatly it feels intentional, almost intimate.