Noah Sarke

The key was upright in the post. Stabbed into the grain of the wood; erect as a flagpole. Hard to spot if you did not know about it as the fat, black, head of the key was not facing the parking lot. All your eye saw was the landscape; the perpendicular trees and tall grass behind it, blending together and hiding the key in plain sight. 

I knew it was there.  I had been told about it in a letter that came to me.  I must at this moment assume that the name Noah Sarke is not a real name, not a true identity. But the letter is real, the key is real.  

The key is a golden brassy color.  Average in appearance, it is not shiny bright as though it was new, neither is it tarnished or mystifying me with a patina finish. It is just a key, a key that could open any number of things, a lock, a door, a locker maybe nothing.  I am to take the key and go to the library and check out a book called “Artichoke's Heart”.  Inside the sleeve will be another letter.

It is with mixed emotions that I am embarking on this adventure. Curiosity is what drives me.  I have no idea where my fear has gone. It seems to have deserted me. That alone should cause me a moment of pause.

Who has done this? If I mix up the letters in the name Noah Sarke will I find the answer?  Why did I open a letter from someone I did not know? I was expecting an invitation to a Bridal Shower and thought this might be it. The envelope was creamy and contained what I believed to be the invitation.  The return address says R.E. Pose 529 Genesis, Gentry Texas.

I will go to the Library and look for this book.