Friday, December 28, 2007


It was a mark of Harold’s good nature that he retained his temper despite the frustration offered by a post office clerk who insisted that he should pay an extra £1.16 to receive his mother’s Christmas card four days late. “Don’t you have a duty to deliver them?” he asked, “I know for a fact that my mother would have put a stamp on it.” He looked at piece of paper thrust at him through the slit in the reinforced glass. “It was in an outsized envelope?” Harold stared at the beady eyes of the clerk. “My mother is seventy six,” he said, “I doubt she would have been able to tell the difference in the stamps.

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