The Cancerian

It’s a quarter past twelve. Perched on the chair at the carrel, I unfold the long awaited piece of letter. The thought of discovering her name sends me aflutter. In the silence, I read through every word on the blue-lined, white surface. The letter begins with a formal greeting; subsequently stating her curiosity that Mrs. Regina addressed her as Ms. Tuesday. She asked her what’s the story behind it? It’s funny that she was given a smirk instead of an answer. As I have thought, she is indeed a cancerian; I got the gist through the sensitivity of her reply. It was pretty bright of her to have guessed it right that I’m the only child in the family. Apart from that, she apologises for not introducing herself previously. Here comes the moment of truth, I hear myself saying. My heart pounds like a locomotive, knowing her name lies in the following line.