I quickly scour the memory and logic circuits of my brain for a similar sound. The best I can come up with is that someone or something has posted a sizable letter through my letterbox...
But isn't it too late for post? And isn't it Sunday anyway? I can't be sure of either if I'm completely honest with myself.
I drag my carcass, damp and bruised, from the bathroom to the hall and face the front door in my birthday suit, looking for the party.
And there it is. The big black envelope. The one too big for the letterbox that is there, unfolded, nevertheless. The one that when I turn it over will become a big white envelope with the words "Welcome To The Leach Treaty", written by the hand of a child, on it. The one that will give me the chance to change my life and every perception I ever had of it in 365 days.
All I have to do now is open it...!
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