Royal Signal

I slipped beneath the front gate and strolled down the paved driveway to the towering wooden post of the curbside mailbox. At the side of the curved tin box, the hinged red postal flag hung in lazy horizontal neglect. To leave a crimson banner dormant is simply an aesthetic crime, wouldn't you say? Wedging my heeled boots into a split in the cedar timber, I braced my back against the metal wall and shoved the paddle upward with both gloved hands. The rusty rivet yielded with a sharp screech, locking the scarlet pennant bolt upright against the sky. Now let the road wonder what royal summons awaits inside.