The Morning Drop

Clack-thump! I scrambled down from the low shoe rack and skittered across the cool tiles straight to the front door mat. A crisp cream envelope had just slipped through the brass mail slot! I bounded right onto the paper with an eager hop. Ooh—look at that serrated little stamp in the corner, crossed by three tiny wavy cancellation lines! I leaned down close, tapping the fibrous texture with both hands. It smelled faintly of morning air and cardboard transit boxes. I nudged the folded crease with my toe, utterly captivated by every single ink fleck!