There are days I just pass by the post box and don’t bother looking in. All that’s in there I tell myself is another insurance flyer, phone bill or something for the man who lives down the driveway. Nothing interesting for me in there. But after I hit publish on the last post, I went and checked on the boot, who was still sleeping and said ‘I need to get out of the house’ and so I went to the front door, climbed up the one set of stairs to the post box and looked in, expecting to find nothing. Or something boring. instead I found this.
K, I don’t know if you’re reading this, but THANK YOU. I didn’t open it at first. I just sat there and stared at it and marveled at it. Post. Real post. Not a bill. Not a magazine. Not a take away menu. But a real letter. So I just savoured it, in it’s envelope, with all its stamps on. And then I opened it and read a lovely letter from one of my most favourite people ever. And K, if you’re reading this, I took your advice. And took the time to comb my hair. Thanks. I will be replying very soon.