Back on the 4th

“-Of all the places,” she said, before she landed hard on her tush.

Angrily she kicked the offensive skateboard away, and roller skated down to the post office, munching on dime store gum.

Inside, it was all hustle and business. Postal workers dressed as elves rushed from counter to counter under oscillating towers of late Christmas letters. Counters worked overtime, slamming stickers and stamps on the letters faster than a sewing machine stitches.

Andrea weaved in among the mess, heading right for Counter 1.

“A port of starboard port please,” she mumbled, spitting out the gum wad into her hand with the last syllable.

An empty cup was pressed into her right hand, the staff’s eyes met hers for a second, and then she was pressed into a package and dumped firmly onto the conveyor belt marked “URGENT LIKE NOW”.

Inside, her cup magically filled up with a shot of port wine, and she was glad that she had bought the cardboard box with a rudimentary seat. Though it squeaked under her. She rubbed her sore tush.

The front of the box included a plexiglass spy slat through which she watched the endless interweaving conveyors funneling packages in all directions – even vertically.

Before she could wonder again how that worked, she felt her package suddenly heave forward, and she tumbled through a voluminous gulf of space…

Finally, her box splashed down, as though she had fallen over Niagara, and she pushed her way out of the sodden and rapidly disintegrating cube.

Now in the rainforest -she could hear the cry of the toucan- she mailed a favourable review using her mind, and watched in satisfaction as the profile of her favourite package transporter got a few new tick points. They knew how to reward loyal travellers, budget though they were.

Camera in hand, Andrea strode onto the well-worn landing area, and followed the other shoe tracks deep into the Amazon. There would be time to mail herself back once she got hungry – drone technology was wonderful, some of the best footage was shot from her reconstituted box as she soared 1,000 feet above the verdant canopy…

But it was the holidays, so she could expect a longer return trip. Backed up transport demands. Fun amenity-laden layovers. “Back on the 4th,” she whispered to his listening Berry watch as she spotted her first scarlet macaw of the day.

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