 |
| For the awkward teenage boy with
the permanent scowl at Box 23, she leaves a packet of smiley face stickers. |
| For adorable Joe at Box 55, she
slips in a prized coupon: one dollar savings on brand-name detergent, a
coupon she hoarded for several months as the expiration date approached. |
| For the nondescript woman at Box
88 -- name unknown, mail rarely received -- she leaves a plastic tulip,
snipped from a pack of six, discovered for only 19-cents in the Dime Time
clearance bin. |
| For Leroy of the Insect Museum
at Box 180, Nannie Ann leaves some shredded carrots in a plastic baggie
for his prized snapping cockroach. |
| Task complete, she closes this last
mail box door and gingerly creeps out through the rear exit. Nannie Ann
pauses a moment outside the building. She looks up her favorite star patch.
She never can remember the formal constellation name, but these stars twinkle
in benediction. |
|
