The Note, Part 7

It knows what I’m thinking.

I called my friend Josh and asked him to meet for coffee. I was going to tell him about the notes. Sure, I had no proof. I didn’t get to keep any of them. It’s enough to make me think I’m crazy, but Josh and I go way back. I really think he’d believe what I’m seeing.

But then I got another note, just before I was about to walk out the door.


What’s really fucked up about this? I still have the note. It didn’t disappear, even when I let go of it in my pocket.

Will this thing hurt me if I tell Josh? I have PROOF now.

What do I do?

To start at the beginning, go here.
For Part 6, go here.

The Note, Part 6

I thought for sure something weird would happen yesterday. It was Halloween for fuck sakes. I walked around all day, looking over my shoulder, expecting to see a note pop up.

Nothing. No-friggin-thing. Even today. Nothing.

So I sat down with a beer to watch tv tonight, to catch a rerun of CSI. I just took a sip and turned to look where I was putting the bottle and when I looked back, there’s the note, stuck to the tv screen.


I got up to grab the note but then this (holy shit) feeling. It was like something was pushing on the side of my face.

I went in the other direction, towards the window. I… I looked down from my apartment window just in time to see a cab t-bone a Mercedes, right in the middle of the fucking road.  

I’ve got to talk to somebody about this shit. I just have to think of who wouldn’t think I’m on drugs.

As usual, the note is gone.


To go to The Note, Part One, click here.

The Note, Part 5

It’s the day before Halloween and I’m standing outside the door of my local corner store, shaking like a leaf. I can’t believe it.

In my pocket is a winning lottery ticket. The prize is too big for the store to pay me. They only pay up to $1,000, so I have to mail the ticket off to the lottery head office.

This note was on my living room couch when I got home from dinner out with friends last night, at 7:10:


My lottery ticket is for exactly $1,026.00.

Is this thing that’s leaving me notes actually a lucky angel or some fucking thing? I’m feeling pretty lucky today.


For Part One of The Note, click here.

The Note, Part 4


The note’s been following me around since yesterday morning. When I woke up it was sitting on top of my coffee maker. When I got to work it was stuck to my computer screen. It was even sitting on the only unoccupied seat on the bus.

The date is old – June 29, 2013. 9:35am.

What does it mean?

It’s stuck to my tv screen now. It won’t come off.

The Note, Part 3

I enjoy my nightly bath, okay? Sue me. I was determined on two accounts tonight though. First, I wouldn’t fall asleep in the tub, and second, if the phone rang I was going to answer it. I even had one of my remote phones in the bathroom right beside me. No problem, right?


I was in the tub for about two minutes when it started to ring. I dried my hand on the towel beside the bath and grabbed the phone. The “on” button wouldn’t work. So I jumped out of the tub, (there was no way I wasn’t answering the damned call. I wanted to know who was doing this to me) and ran to the bedroom to get the hardwired line.

I must have said, “hello” a dozen times. No one was at the other end. Just dead air. So I went back to my bath. This was stuck to the mirror:


Nothing on it this time. Just the date and time. One minute past the current time that was.

“Why the fuck are you doing this to me!”

If the neighbours heard me they must think I’m nutsoid. They know I’m always alone here.

I thought, Fuck it. I left the note there and sat back in the bath. When I looked up, the note was gone.
Part one of The Note is here:

The Note, Part 2

I thought it would be safe to take a bath.  I got home at 5:56 just like usual, made dinner, enjoyed it in front of the tv with a glass of wine, and went for a soak.

I don’t usually fall asleep in the tub. Tonight was strange. It was the phone that woke me up.

Of course I remembered the note from yesterday. Of course I was tempted to rush out naked to answer it. But something told me I shouldn’t, even though my bath water had gone cold anyway.

I found it when I went back to my bedroom.


“Who the hell are you?” I asked the empty room.

The time on my alarm clock was 10:03. The note was written at 10 on the dot. I put the note down and went back to the bathroom to get my clothes. When I came back to the bedroom, the note was gone.

Start from the beginning: The Note