The postwoman1 min read

I walk out the door with my bike in hand when the postwoman arrives in her van. ‘Good morning!’, I yell at her. ‘You don’t need to be at my place, don’t you?’

‘Good morning! No, I don’t think I have to!’ she yells back. I set off on my bike and hear a faint ‘hopefully…’ coming from her direction as she opens the back of the van. I guess I’ll have to wait and see if there’s a “we missed you!” card in the mailbox when I return home.

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