Yesterday, I got a small padded envelope in the mail, returned to my address in Anchorage, Alaska because it needed a customs declaration attached.

Trouble is, I never sent this particular parcel.

My girlfriend looked it over, and we realized that it had the right address, but there was no such apartment number.

We looked up the name at the top, but there is no R. Kent in the phone book, nor any people with the same last name with a similar street number. A quick search on Alaska Posts website reveals the postal code to be valid on a nearby street.

My girlfriend opened it, and you can imagine our reaction to its contents. We debated if it was a friend playing a joke on us, or if it was intended to be found and cause trouble. However, Alaskan Customs never found out about the contents, so the point is rendered moot.

I will keep the contents for now, and remail the envelope with a photo of its former contents with a short note saying if he gets in touch with the person how mailed it orginally, he can drop by and retrieve it.

He better hurry though, as I only intend to hang onto it for so long.

I particularly like the happy pink stickers on the package it was sent in.