in a postbox
by
clare
Post Boxes. They're nice things. And, despite being a bit on the
small side, the right sort of proportions for a person. I can imagine myself
perched in there. Quite an adventure. I'm trying to think where they might
decide to send me (once the postman had got over the shock of seeing a Live
Woman).
The scene in the sorting office was chaotic, as everyone had a say
regarding my future. I kept my mouth shut, I have to make so many decisions
each day, trails to follow between home and work and the supermarket, church,
friends, chemists, parks, fish and chip shops. I'll let them decide this one
for me.
The pragmatists were wavering between the hairdressers, the
chiropractor and the gym. I hoped someone would overrule them, none of these
places are much fun. I need to be improved, I know, but some other day
perhaps. Kindly caring souls were in favour of sending me to friends, maybe
long lost, for a reviving diet of company, tea and cake. Maybe they'll send me
down to Eastbourne? A stamp must be cheaper than the train fare. But I don't
think I'd get through the letter box.
Some of the postal workers were
grumpy (too many early mornings) "Send her back to work, she's got to learn
responsibility". Others though I could go to Parliament or the Canterbury
Cathedral, to see what the Powers that Be might make of a token person
arriving like a letter bomb. Nobody suggested that I should be labelled for
Jerusalem, I don't think they thought I was up to sorting out years of
complexity. Leave that to the men in suits.
"What about somewhere hot?"
That person thought I looked a bit pasty, and indeed, November is never the
most flattering month. I generally think it's more fun to be hot with other
people. I looked around the sorting office but there were no other human
parcels headed for "somewhere hot". And then it was proclaimed to be too much
bother, or too expensive, or not conforming to health and safety regulations.
When you are delivering letters in Sheffield you don't necessarily feel like
sending random unwritten parcels to hot places.
What about a random point of longitude and latitude? Punch in
some numbers and see where it gets me. I decided 0,0 was
random enough for my tastes. The great convergence. Not very
practical. If I was sent to the
north pole who pick me up off the door mat? And who would send me home?