You straighten

You straighten your back. Back in your cosy abode, the ambient, quiet, nonchalant sound of your room returns to your ears. You look at the letter and it's writings in your hands. You pause, and think about what the hell you just read...
There is the slightest hesitation in your fingertips, before you flip through the paper, the contents of the envelope, Looking for more... Something to explain where the letter came from, who it's from.. and if there's more...
Alas.. there's nothing else. No sender, no return address, no further note... Confusion is your only finding, your thirst for more information unsatiated. You flip back through the papers, turning them over, wondering if you missed something. You catch yourself, and get yourself to breath and think. This was sent to this address. Could it possibly be a mistake? Some error? You look over the handwriting on the black-golden envelope, Scanning the numbers, the letters... Yet, nothing gives you any further leads.
Well. If you're going to be told nothing. Then you can hold onto this, until some explanation presents itself. Aye, you can hold onto this indeed.

You are mightily distracted, for the remainder of your day.