She opened the envelope and screamed. The paper didn't so much as drop to the floor as simply fall apart in her hands, clear liquid eating its way out of the corners and seeping everywhere, floor, clothes skin.

She screamed again as the contents of the envelope liquidated the very flesh from her hands. She turned sharply as the back door banged, meeting the horrified eyes of her husband through a blur of tears.

"Holy fuck," was all that he whispered as he grabbed the 'phone from the side and dialled 999, barking orders for an ambulance.

"Why would they do this?" He stood and wrung his hands, wanting to touch her but selfishly scared of the acidic still coating her skin.

"I told you," she sobbed in gasping breaths, "I told you not to do it. Why? Why didn't you listen to me?!"

He couldn't answer.