something left

On my desk lay a piece of paper with the name Mr Mouse written on it in blue ink, followed by a telephone number. I have not met Mr Mouse. It is down to me to call him or else? He does not know of my existence yet. The only certainty being that we both exist. if I dial his number, I set forth the possibility of easing the pain. The pain being self inflicted, I come to wander how Mr Mouse's phone number ended up on my desk. it seems I command a chain of small events upon which M
r Mouse has no control. Would I call on him, I would then give him the opportunity to become an event in my disorderly life and therefore the possibility of controlling my life. Because to this day, I know that the pain can not be eased, I will not call Mr Mouse and I will be left with the uncertainty of why exactly his telephone number lay on my desk.