The package arrived day before yesterday, which seemed weird since it was the weekend. Small square box, about the size of a pound of butter, at least that’s if he’s right and four sticks of butter makes a pound, which is a lot if you think about it, using two full sticks of butter whenever he makes a batch of cookies, or about twice a week, so that’s fifty-two pounds of butter a year, or more, since some weeks are more difficult, requiring additional cookies. But, I digress; back to the box. Heavy, solid. No idea what was in it, no return address, no orders expected, just an anonymous box. He set the box on the table, left it there, unsure if he should open it. There is sat for the rest of the weekend, and Monday came and went, when he almost forgot about the box with the start of the regular work week. Tuesday then. Well, no sense putting it off for much longer. Would the day of the week make a difference? He hardly thought so. Still. Tuesday. He located the letter opener, and managed to avoid gouging his hand too much, successfully opened the box to reveal a layer of bubble wrap. Inside the box, under the bubble wrap, he imagined he could see something looking back at him, a giant eye perhaps. Who would send him a great eye? The eye in the box, awakened by the opening of the box and light filtering through the bubble wrap, was wondering something very similar. Who was it sent to this time?