It wasn’t a sound I heard often. I felt, as I usually did, slightly apprehensive as I unbolted the door and threw the locks,
noted the increase in my heart rate, the gentle tremor in my hands.
I peered around the chain. A youth in sports clothing stood on my doormat, his trainer-shod foot tapping.
More than that; his whole body was vibrating with energy. His cap was on backward. Why?
Instinctively, I took a step back. “Oliphant?” he said. Apprehensively, I nodded.
He dipped down to the side of the door, out of sight, then reappeared with a huge basket filled with flowers,
wrapped in cellophane and ribbons. He made to hand it over and I unlatched the chain and took it from him gingerly,
fearing some sort of trick. He rummaged in his jacket pocket and pulled out a black electronic gadget.
“Sign here, please,” he said, handing me a plastic pencil which had, horrifically, been lurking behind his ear.
I produced my special autograph, which he did not even glance at.
“Cheers!” he said, already skittering off down the stairs. I had never seen so much nervous energy contained in one human body.
A tiny envelope, like a hamster’s birthday card, was affixed to the cellophane.
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