A Slanted Delivery

Lingering under the sofa cushions all morning wasn't getting me any fresh air, so I slipped out the front door's lower draft stopper to see what was happening outside. Up on the wooden side rail by the brass mail slot, someone left a thick cardboard delivery box tipped at a reckless angle against an empty terracotta saucer. I hooked my feet onto a protruding flap and gave the corner a lazy shove. The box tilted, scraped softly against the brick wall, and slid down three inches, perfectly wedging a glossy folded flyer into the slot opening like an oversized tongue. Not a bad way to deliver the news.