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Waiting for the Mail MAG
I waited for the mail today. It was hot today. It was yellow today. It was hot and yellow today.
Today was absurd. It was absurd because I was stuck. I felt stuck because I was waiting for the mail. Waiting for the mail made me feel stuck because I couldn’t get anything out of it. And so I couldn’t get out of feeling stuck.
I don’t usually wait for the mail. But I was hoping to get a letter. I was hoping to get a letter from her. I was hoping to get a letter from the woman I wrote to.
I sat on the steps like an ape. I was like an ape because I scratched my head. I was like an ape because my knees were drawn up high. I was like an ape because I glowered on the steps.
The crown of the house dampened a shadow. It dampened a pointed shadow over the steps. It dampened a pointed shadow over the green lawn. It was damp because the shade soaked up the humidity.
The letters she sent were pathetic. I knew they were pathetic. She knew they were pathetic. We wanted them to be pathetic.
The steps had railings. The railings had upright bars. The steps had a gate. The gate was at the top. The gate had upright bars too. The railings and the gate were wooden and painted white. They were blue in the shade.
At the base of the steps there was a pillar of hosta. The pillar was lengthwise. The pillar of hosta crowned the head of the green lawn. The hosta crackled when you walked in them. The hosta had pale green leaves. They had tall upright bars. The bars were thin. The hosta had blooms. The blooms were at the top of the upright bars. The blooms had slender petals. The petals were mauve and wet.
I could see the postman. I could see him down the hill. The postman was gray. The postman was damp. The postman was damp and gray.
The letters she sent were cheap. I could feel the cheapness. I could feel it in the paper. They were cheap because they didn’t mean much.
The postman sidled through the yellow heat. He had a zookeeper’s hat. He had on zookeepers’ shorts. He had on zookeepers’ kneesocks. He had a zookeeper’s frowning mustache.
The letters she sent were floral and lacy. They were floral because she wrote on floral paper. They were lacy because her handwriting was lacy.
The heat buzzed. The postman came. The heat buzzed as the postman came. The postman stood at the base of the steps.
He pulled out a wad. The wad was of envelopes. There was a pink envelope. The postman’s fingers were thick. The wad was thick. The postman handed me the thick wad with his thick fingers. The thick postman turned to go.
I looked through the thick wad. There was no letter from her.
The hosta crackled.
“Watch it, willya -”
“Yap. Sorry, yap.”
I strewed the green lawn with the wad of mail. I strewed the lawn with the wad of mail because of the absurdity of today. I did it because I was stuck.
I did it because it was hot and yellow today.
I did it because I waited for the mail today.
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