Misdelivered Mail

The scent of wet paper flops in my grasping hands. Careful fingers tear mail open slowly to guard its contents. A handwritten note from a woman I don't know flows with sweet meanderings, too delicate to repeat. Who is she that would lure a faithful wife's husband? I trusted him with the strength of gold. Torched like its making, jealous flames leap my eyes to the return address. I plan to confront this mistress for their heartless affair. Quicker than anger surges, my eyes scroll to the middle, squinting at the rain smudged ink.... Addressed to the neighbors, I shame my hasty accusations. 5-27-2020