It’s getting late, I thought and peered through the window, what time is it anyway?
Before I could leave the doors of the hall, a single post was left on the request board. It read,
Oh dear! It seems the mailman’s magic mail truck has lost all power, and he’s only got another twenty or so houses to deliver mail to! He’ll ask you to get the letters distributed, but he’ll warn you he has very little money to give you for it.
“Huh,” I glanced around the building for anyone else, and took the paper with me, “poor guy.”
With a quick jog to the post office, I found the mailman and his powerless truck. He gave me a semi-long list of addresses and a canvas bag full of envelopes. All of which, unfortunately, were spread out through the town. But, without making a fuss, I accepted his request and made my way to the nearest house.
An old, fragile gate sat in front of the cottage creaking loudly when I barely touched it. Lights turned on inside the building as soon as I stepped onto the lawn. I rushed to the door hoping to reach it before anyone opened it.
“Hello?” I knocked, “You’ve got mail.”
An old couple opened up the porch, “Thank you sweetie.”
“No problem ma’am,” I handed her a package and a clipboard to sign, “Have a good night.”
I took a long sigh of relief and walked away from the house. The rest of the homes were a huge blur as sprinted between alleys and down streets, Just two more to go.
The next house address was all the way in the outskirts of Magnolia. I nearly lost my mind trying to find the correct street when I realized; it was the farm right in front of me.
“Ugh, you’re so stupid sometimes Venize,” I thought out loud, and made my way towards the well lit home. A warm feeling washed over me when I opened the door.
“Who’s there?” A woman, no older than I, shouted from the kitchen.
This is not my home, I chagrined, “Mail.”
“It’s traditional to knock, you know.”
“That was my fault, this house looks so familiar to my childhood home. I grew up on a farm too.”
“Oh, cool. Well you should come by again sometime.” The stranger replied, hastily snatched her mail, and dashed inside. I spent a minute staring at the door, and knocked again.
“Can I help you?”
“Yeah, you took the wrong letter, miss.”
She walked back to her counter and picked up the paper she snatched, “Would you look at that?”
“Here you go,” I fished through the bag for her envelope, “miss, uh, Evenwicht?”
“That’s me,” she gracefully accepted it, “thanks, and have a good night.”
“Alright, you too.” I flushed awkwardly as I walked away. Before heading back into the night, I glanced once more at the house, and walked away. I wonder who’s the last one.
A familiar address was scribbled onto the paper. Mine. I tucked it inside my breast pocket as I headed back to the post office.
“Here’s your bag back.” I carefully hung it on the coat hanger by the door.
“Hmm?” The elderly man shot up, “Oh, thank you so much.”
I backed up and began to head back outside, “Goodnight sir.”
“Where are you going?”
“…home?”
“You forgot your reward,” he hobbled over to me and dropped a few jewels into my palm.
Two hundred fifty, I peered at the gems and back at him, “You didn’t have to.”
“Take it, I’d be offended if you didn’t.”
I contemplated for a second, “Thank you.”
He waved me off, and I headed back into the night. The usually endless crowds in the city had subsided, and the sun began to rise in the distance. Twigs and leaves crunched under my feet as I arrived inside my yard. In the brisk dusk air, I sat at the table on my porch, opening the letter slowly. I anticipated something more, but all it contained was a monthly bill.
Before I could leave the doors of the hall, a single post was left on the request board. It read,
Oh dear! It seems the mailman’s magic mail truck has lost all power, and he’s only got another twenty or so houses to deliver mail to! He’ll ask you to get the letters distributed, but he’ll warn you he has very little money to give you for it.
“Huh,” I glanced around the building for anyone else, and took the paper with me, “poor guy.”
With a quick jog to the post office, I found the mailman and his powerless truck. He gave me a semi-long list of addresses and a canvas bag full of envelopes. All of which, unfortunately, were spread out through the town. But, without making a fuss, I accepted his request and made my way to the nearest house.
An old, fragile gate sat in front of the cottage creaking loudly when I barely touched it. Lights turned on inside the building as soon as I stepped onto the lawn. I rushed to the door hoping to reach it before anyone opened it.
“Hello?” I knocked, “You’ve got mail.”
An old couple opened up the porch, “Thank you sweetie.”
“No problem ma’am,” I handed her a package and a clipboard to sign, “Have a good night.”
I took a long sigh of relief and walked away from the house. The rest of the homes were a huge blur as sprinted between alleys and down streets, Just two more to go.
The next house address was all the way in the outskirts of Magnolia. I nearly lost my mind trying to find the correct street when I realized; it was the farm right in front of me.
“Ugh, you’re so stupid sometimes Venize,” I thought out loud, and made my way towards the well lit home. A warm feeling washed over me when I opened the door.
“Who’s there?” A woman, no older than I, shouted from the kitchen.
This is not my home, I chagrined, “Mail.”
“It’s traditional to knock, you know.”
“That was my fault, this house looks so familiar to my childhood home. I grew up on a farm too.”
“Oh, cool. Well you should come by again sometime.” The stranger replied, hastily snatched her mail, and dashed inside. I spent a minute staring at the door, and knocked again.
“Can I help you?”
“Yeah, you took the wrong letter, miss.”
She walked back to her counter and picked up the paper she snatched, “Would you look at that?”
“Here you go,” I fished through the bag for her envelope, “miss, uh, Evenwicht?”
“That’s me,” she gracefully accepted it, “thanks, and have a good night.”
“Alright, you too.” I flushed awkwardly as I walked away. Before heading back into the night, I glanced once more at the house, and walked away. I wonder who’s the last one.
A familiar address was scribbled onto the paper. Mine. I tucked it inside my breast pocket as I headed back to the post office.
“Here’s your bag back.” I carefully hung it on the coat hanger by the door.
“Hmm?” The elderly man shot up, “Oh, thank you so much.”
I backed up and began to head back outside, “Goodnight sir.”
“Where are you going?”
“…home?”
“You forgot your reward,” he hobbled over to me and dropped a few jewels into my palm.
Two hundred fifty, I peered at the gems and back at him, “You didn’t have to.”
“Take it, I’d be offended if you didn’t.”
I contemplated for a second, “Thank you.”
He waved me off, and I headed back into the night. The usually endless crowds in the city had subsided, and the sun began to rise in the distance. Twigs and leaves crunched under my feet as I arrived inside my yard. In the brisk dusk air, I sat at the table on my porch, opening the letter slowly. I anticipated something more, but all it contained was a monthly bill.
