The Mailbox

write about the love letters that were sent from the viewpoint of the mailbox

The Mailbox

same time, every wednesday, the sweet smelling envelope is gently sent sliding. it feels like a very delicate flower being thrusted ever so carefully down the chute, as if it would crumble or tear if it is sent down any other way. it lies amongst the other envelopes and letters, piles of credit notices, bill accounts, sometimes even a banana peel or an empty bottle of water, or a juice pack. it always misses the sweet envelope, thankfully.

and so every wednesday, as the clock strikes half-past 2 in the afternoon, that sweet-smelling envelope makes it all worthwhile getting the other letters and stuff.

and when morning comes, the smell would fill the whole space, that when the uniformed man collects all that was deposited the previous day, he exclaims ~ yep, it was wednesday yesterday.

~ daily writing prompt, 16 June


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