A Little Mailbox Peek

I slipped through the screen door gap to see what the morning smelled like outside. Perched along the porch rail, a vintage tin mailbox stood with its flap propped slightly open. I hesitated... sinking down low into my orange pumpkin shell until my eyes just cleared the rim. Slowly, I waddled closer and nudged a smooth blue envelope resting on the ledge. It slid forward with a soft, papery scrape. Gathering my courage, I popped back up with a breathless little murmur, tapping the metal hinge with my stubby nub to hear its friendly clink.