Every year, I get these cheap, totally ridiculous, totally anonymous Christmas cards. I don't know where they come from. They show up, shoved underneath the front door of my apartment.

They're usually the same-old, same-old. Happy Holiday. Merry Christmas. I Hope It All Works Out For You. Season's Greetings.

It's different this year. Whoever sent it wrote something more than the normal tried-and-true slogans. I got three this year.As if that wasn't weird enough... Well, you'll see. I'll get to that later. This is the first:

Merry Christmas! I just wanted to say that seeing you perform at that Christmas pageant down the street was wonderful! Keep up the good work!

And this is the second:

Merry Christmas! This was a hard year for everyone in the vuildin, what with all the change in management and the water going out last month, and the fire... But we all got through it! I'm proud of you!

I didn't think much of anything weird about it. It's not weird to receive anonymous notes. It's a time-honored tradition that begins with secret admirers and continues on to a truly Secret Santa. I was honored to be the recipient of these letters. Someone was thinking about me.

But, well, like I said, I got three letters. And the third was... Well, it was different. I would leave it at that but, frankly I don't think I can.

Merry Christmas! I need to tell you that I have been living in your walls. Thank you for being so accommodating for all these years.

It was written in the same handwriting as the others, so I knew it was the same person. There was no doubt about it. But there was something else. It sparked paranoia in me. And then I remembered-- there hadn't been a fire, not in the apartment building proper. There was just a fire in my kitchen that consumed some drapes that I put out with a wet towel. I didn't tell anybody about that.

And I have no doubt about it. The person writing these letters-- they were telling the truth. I've found traces of someone coming in and out of my apartment through hole in the wall covered by the back of my couch. Who would have guessed that an upset in my normally uncleaned dust would have outed them?

For this Christmas, I'm getting rid of my unwanted roommate. One way or the other.