The cool spring air brushes the hair over my face. The birds are singing love songs in the branches of the thin wall of trees following the driveway as it dips downward to the valley road, while the sun rays seek out my skin to warm. Today is nothing short of a marvelous day.
My feet come to a halt—stuck! My gaze fixes on the unit that houses the only items that can change the outlook of the rest of my day—the mail! If I leave it there in its house, it can’t swallow me whole. My mind races, my eyes redden and burn, but without a command, I found my hand pulling down the dungeon’s moat draw bridge. My mind shouted, No, but in one swift move, it’s done!
Just as expected, fierce dragons in letter and junk mail form glare from the darkness of within. Puffing out a stern blow from my nostrils, I dove in swooping forward, heaving out the dragons one by one. Limb by limb they fall out and are captured. My sturdy steed transports me and the dragons up the mountain to our castle. I hear a soft cry, a beacon for help, weeping from within the pile. My fingers drift across the tips of each shape, trying not to make eye contact with the ones named Bill. As if to find a hidden delicate flower, my fingers danced along the edges until pausing over a peculiar non-bill-looking dragon. My mind raced, my eyes fell on the mark. “What is this? It’s not a bill!” I cried.
I will slay the dragons later. Today I will read this hand written letter from my grand-nieces! Oh, what a splendid day in deed!
Isn’t that how everyone feels when picking up the mail?
RA Anderson 