Posts Tagged ‘Post Office’
Dec
Christmas Cards
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
My eccentric aunt sits in front of a stack of approximately one hundred Christmas cards, freshly signed, sealed and stamped.
“May I help? Let me mail them for you,” I offer.
I grab a plastic bag. As I manoeuvre cards into the open bag, about one third fall to the floor. I kneel down to scoop them up.
She begins to wail. “Don’t you realize, I spent forty minutes sorting them into fashionable zip code order?”
Is there any point in explaining they will become part of the greater mass once dropped through the chute at the Central Post Office?
From Guest Contributor Barry O’Farrell
Barry is an actor who sometimes writes, living in Brisbane, Australia. Barry’s stories can be found at Cyclamens & Swords, 101 Words, The Flash Fiction Press and here at A Story In 100 Words. One of Barry’s stories was runner up in the recent Arts Alliance competition.
Jan
Complacency
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
When the alarm sounded, most of us were in the break room. We didn’t need to check the bulletin board to know we were to exit through the rear stairwell. Even so, we took our time evacuating.
The post office had been receiving bomb threats for years. When I was first hired, I was constantly nervous, but over time I’d realized we weren’t in any real danger. No more than everyone else, anyway.
Today was different. Today there really was a bomb. Perhaps if we’d hurried, the death toll wouldn’t have been so high. Perhaps I’d still have my legs.
Jun
The Invisible Man
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Henry was an old man. In the last ten, maybe twenty years, he realized that he had grown invisible. When shopping, picking a loaf of bread off the shelf, or choosing a couple of oranges at the produce counter, young people would pass by, almost brushing into him, but not making eye contact or offering a greeting. At the front entrance of the post office, an attractive young lady appeared, face to face at the large, double doors. She stared straight ahead, not changing her expression. She looked through the old man as if he was glass in the door.
From Guest Contributor, Thomas Pitre