Saturdays were one of the laziest days to be had in her week. Not the laziest which were reserved for Sundays, but most definitely one of the laziest. Dressed in comfortable sweat pants, a shirt that was two sizes too big and had belonged to an ex-boyfriend somewhere in another city and easy flip flops, Alexa slowly made her way down the stairs and made a beeline for the row of mailboxes. After casting a glance at her neighbor, who seemed a little out of sorts, she finally pushed her key into her mailbox and opened it. Because her mail was still being forwarded from one address to another, it was not a surprise that it was nearly empty.
Save for a little patch of white fur, which was enough. Enough to bring a frown on her face. With gentle fingers she picked it out of the box and as it lay on the palm of her hand, Alexa's frown deepened. Gently, her fingers reached out to stroke the white fur, carefully. As if it was a living thing. But when it was turned over, she could see words burned into the leather.
Perhaps this was one of those Mag Lite and Taser moments Samuel had warned her about on the beach. For strange things appeared to happen in Pax. So he said. "But know what?" There were no buried skeletons, no juicy details from her past people could dig up.