You are awoken by a knock on your door. Groggily, you drag yourself from the warm comfort of your bed and stumble over to the door. You squint through the peephole.

You don't see anyone.

"Son of a..." you mutter.

Then it occurs to you that it might have been a package delivery. You weren't expecting any packages, but your neighbors' packages often get delivered to your place by mistake. Checking the peephole again, you notice the edge of a cardboard box lying on the ground.

You unlock the door, open it, and size up the package. It's around one square foot. Shrugging, you pick it up, close and lock your door, and take the package over to your kitchen counter. You attempt to find the address label in order to see who this package was meant for. Flipping the box over, you find a small, nondescript label stuck neatly to the center. Oddly, there's no name on the label--just an address. And, sure enough, it's your address.

"That's weird," you say to yourself.

Shrugging, you begin to open the package. Maybe it really is meant for you. And if it's not, you can always just give it back to the delivery guy tomorrow.