Tuesday, 02 July 2002 | Mailbox

I saw the cardboard cube poking out of my mailbox even before I got out of the car. My name, printed electronically on the outside just under "Keebler Company," a box inside of a box, plastic, tissue paper—I unwrapped the mysterious present layer by layer, with no idea what it was or why it was sent to me. Actually, even now I have no idea what it is. It's a disappointing little piece of metal in the shape of two teapots connected by bars. On one teapot is an advertisement for some cookies, and on the other, an ad for a store in London. Did I order this? I couldn't have. I wonder if I paid for it.

Perhaps I will receive the instructions tomorrow, hiding in a series of Russian nesting dolls.