An explanation and instructions.

The letter begins with perhaps the strangest line you could have imagined.

Welcome. If my calculations are correct, you are now a brand new person. I am William, your other half.

You tilt your head to one side as you continue reading. It does fill in some weird gaps in your head and explain why the room seems so right-but-wrong to you. You find yourself skimming some of the larger paragraphs. Apparently you have some sort of selective amnesia? You did buy everything in your apartment, and decorated it this way, but looking at it now you can't relate to the mindset you were in when you did it. You'd prefer to to be quite different.

The letter explains that this is your first time existing—very weird; you're not sure you believe that—and suggests that if you want to exist comfortably, you will need to procure a government-issued ID. There is paperwork included in the envelope that you can take down to City Hall. The letter insists you will be given a valid photo ID. No questions asked.

Just make sure you sort out your name. I left that part of the paperwork blank. For your convenience please find included a list of names I would have chosen.

Your name? Why would that be... you blink, suddenly unable to recall ever having had a name. What in the hell is your name? You dig through the several documents in the envelope to find a quarter-sheet of paper with about a dozen names written on it. Scanning the paper, one name sticks out so obviously and feels so familiar that you breath a sigh of relief. Fiona. How could you have forgotten your own name?

You're really off your game today, it seems. Although there is something about all this that does make you believe it's real. Especially since you can't recall ever having had a proper ID in your life, but you do know you need one. Better to play along at least for the time being.

In the bedroom, I left you some gifts I expect you will be very glad to have.

Ooh! Presents!

Still dressed in nothing but your oversize boxer shorts, you carry your envelope of mysteries further into the apartment to your bedroom.