The Mail Man

16 July 2012
Day after day the topics of which I want to center my blog posts around are getting harder to discover. I think about my life day by day and what happens and who I am and I am shortly running out of things to say. Considering I still have two weeks of school left and multiple days of blogging I am quite scared. My life has been full of adventurous and fun things so it should not be hard to come up with a story to tell or an event to recall in the most vivid fashion. With creative and diverse word choice I could possibly even tell about how I went and picked up the mail in the required 300 words. Imagine this: He took step by step and pace after pace towards the shiny silver mailbox. Encased in bricks the mailbox stood no more than five feet tall and four feet wide. The width is due to the mailboxes companions that accompany him across the road. The four containers stand glued together in a homely fashion. The retriever glares at them with hatred, the task thrust upon him by his mother has interrupted another captivating episode of Criminal Minds. The pavement is hot and dangerous to his fragile toes. He dances across the lava-like material so quick that one might mistake him for the roadrunner off of the ever popular Loony Tunes. He flings the hinge open and grasps the wad of mailings, almost forgetting to slam the thin metal container shut. Faster than the trip there he embarks back towards the door unsure if the episode inside remains paused. With a Tom Brady throw he launches the mail to his wide open mother and dashes down the stairs. All before plopping down onto the soft leather sofa and barely missing the ice cold glass of water at his feet. He checks the timer, 28 seconds; not too bad for a kid who checked the street before crossing, not too bad.
And to think that you thought a story about getting the mail could not be exciting.