Word: mailboxes
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...first problem is finding the right one. That requires sharp intelligence, which can be gleaned from locals and gathered by U.S. spy satellites. The eyes in the sky can pinpoint targets as small as a mailbox...
...drove out of a parking lot where some cars would remain through the night, and into the week, their drivers not returning from the city. As for our family, it was now home and safe. Caroline got put to bed, then I strolled down to the mailbox. Nothing; the post office had shut down too. Coming back up the driveway, I looked up at the moonless sky and watched for a good long while for a plane. Nothing. The sound of the crickets was overwhelming and disturbing...
...past and the very near future. Despite your lofty plans to get out and enjoy the sunshine, to really see where your courses fit in your lifetime plans, the perspective narrows to a three-hour period one morning, the rectangular space of a TF’s mailbox the next. Reading period is a time to take stock, but often only in these backward terms. You learn how little you read for your Core class; you learn how much you enjoyed that chemistry lab, in retrospect; you learn how much peanut brittle one human being can consume on a Thursday...
...always got over our little tiffs, though, and found our way back to a mutually respectful relationship: I buy stamps at the machine in the post office lobby, doing my part to cut down on the lines. And my mail carrier delivers my mail - often getting it into my mailbox on the first...
...back to the problem at hand: As I said, I love getting mail, and I learned long ago that in order to get mail, I had to send it. It sounds a bit pathetic, I know, but I look forward all day to opening my mailbox and pulling out the contents - bills, circulars, magazines, whatever. And when Sunday rolls around, it always feels like a non-day, because there's no mail. I know I'd get over the end of Saturday delivery eventually with the help of a skillful therapist, but I can't help but hope the USPS...