[From: Old Mrs. Pierson
My Dearest Atlas,
How have you been, my dear? Isn’t the weather lovely these days? The flowers in my backyard are blooming so beautifully, and in the morning, they glow like no other. They’ve given this wide and plain green space beautiful colors. I have spent many tranquil moments walking amidst this delightful meadow, reflecting on life’s peculiar twists and turns, and our beautiful family ties.
I must confess that despite all this tranquility and joy, I find myself worrying about your well-being. I am afraid that your wit and wisdom, which have given me so much delight, may go to waste. Therefore, when our dearest Penny mentioned that you too carry this worry in your life, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
I have selected quite a few eligible women in their prime who have the perfect star alignment with yours.
This old woman only wishes you the best. I hope this brings you some ease. I look forward to your response and assure you I will arrange everything, provided you give me the time to fulfill these arrangements.
Sincerely,
Grandma]
---
Atlas blinked, then blinked again, feeling as though the small device in his hands had turned into an old parchment. Reading Old Mrs. Pierson’s text message felt like he was wearing ancient clothing, as though he had been away from home to defend his land.
"I never knew Old Mrs. Pierson knew how to use a phone," he muttered to himself, reading the long message once more. Every time he read it, the same feeling crossed his heart and mind, to the point that he could almost imagine himself back in ancient times.
"Sir, I’m sorry it took me so long," Allen then said, returning with a tray of food from the fast food counter, sitting down across from Atlas. The second he saw the puzzlement on Atlas’s face, he was tempted to take a peek at what his boss was reading.
Sadly, Allen could only see that someone had sent his boss a very long message. Whatever it was, it must be important. So, Allen sat quietly, unwrapping his hamburger without disturbing his boss.
"Allen, will you tell me the meaning of this?" Atlas asked after a moment, flipping his phone to show Allen the message he was reading. "It sounds to me like Old Mrs. Pierson is at least two centuries old to write such a letter."
"Letter?" Deep lines formed on Allen’s brows as he checked the text message. After reading the first sentence, his face contorted as he understood why Atlas had said that Old Mrs. Pierson was probably older than she claimed. As he continued reading, scrolling the message down with his index finger, he almost choked on his hamburger.
"*Cough! Cough!*"
Atlas frowned and reached for the glass of water to hand it over to Allen. After Allen took it, he downed it in a single gulp. For a moment, Allen felt his hair grow longer, as though he were wearing one of those tight scholar uniforms from ancient times by reading such a message.
"Hah!" Allen breathed out in relief before setting his wide eyes on his boss. "Sir! Did you not understand the letter?"
"I did. Old Mrs. Pierson wants to set me up with all these women."
"Then why are you asking me what it’s about?"
"I’m trying to confirm Old Mrs. Pierson’s age." Atlas casually shrugged as he retrieved his phone and stared at it. "She might be lying."
Allen’s face contorted, but he decided not to comment. Knowing his boss, he could easily imagine Atlas’s train of thought—perhaps he thought Old Mrs. Pierson was a secret immortal.
"Should I read it again?" Atlas wondered aloud. "I feel ancient when I do."
"I think—" Allen didn’t even get a proper sentence out before Atlas started reading it again anyway. "..."
’I should’ve known it’s not me he’s talking to, but himself,’ Allen thought, taking a big bite of his burger as he watched Atlas’s expression grow stern and serious. ’I guess he likes the idea of being ancient. I didn’t know Old Mrs. Pierson had such a sense of humor.’
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