Dear Stauffer Thief: First You Stole My Laptop, Then You Stole My Heart

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To the Cute Stauffer thief in the black mask,

I spotted you across the room, as you reached for a Herschel backpack. You lifted the bag with ease, even while it was weighted with pounds homework that you likely cannot sell. Then I saw your face, your beautiful cheekbones. Your blue eyes darted around, landing on a pair of house-keys to someone’s home in Milton ON. And that’s when I fell in love.

I returned to my desk, lost in thoughts of mysterious aura. I barely even noticed my laptop was missing. Who were you? I want to know you. No, like REALLY know you. I want to understand how your unique mind works – How you find value in the most trivial of things, seemingly useless trinkets and notes. And yet, you are a pirate, a rogue, a seeker of booty. In the cover of darkness you swoop in, and a like an eagle you snatch necklaces, wallets, phones – my heart. If only you could fit me in your backpack too?

Forever yours,

Hambone Fakenamington

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