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𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 the sofa, looking outside the window obsessively like a guard dog. She tries to capture every movement that could be being made on the outside of our house. It's vital that if something or someone approaches our home she sees it and warns me and our mom because I could be getting my big acceptance letters any time. Starting today.
Susan gasps "Mail!" she warns us, getting immediately up from the couch.
"Mail!" I slam the book I was pretending to read and get up.
"Hurry up!" Mom rushes over to the front door and looks over to us "Are your shoes on?"
"Does that seem to you like something to worry about now?" I reply.
"Are they or aren't they?" she rolls her eyes at us.
"No, but it's fine! Come on!" I groan at the end of my sentence.
"Go put them on then! What if your acceptance letters are in that batch of mail and we wanna celebrate? Do you really wanna go back inside and wait until your shoes are on?"
"What?"
"You'd be putting your happiness on hold, Go!"
"What difference does it make if we wait now or then?"
"We're not happy now."
Susan clicks her tongue and looks at me as if saying she's right "She has a good point."
I throw my hands in the air surrendering, "Fine, whatever."
"You don't need to tie them, just get 'em on your feet!" Mom yells.
"Right, okay!" I shout back, and as soon as I get those shoes on my feet I join them "Let's go!". I grab my doorknob and bolt outside, noticing Kirk who's opened our mailbox and is searching through his messenger bag.
"Kirk!" I shout high-pitchedly "Kirk!" I shout again, out of breath.
"Good morning, ladies, how's your morning been so far?" Kirk doesn't bother raising his glance from the mail he's searching through.
"Good! Is there any envelope for us?" Mom asks, sounding like she's had five cups of coffee already.
"A big one!" I specify.
"Right! A big one, not a little one, if it's big it means she got in."
"Just a few seconds, please..." he tells us to be patient.
"Shouldn't you sort the mail before?" I ask sighing.
"I could, but it takes spontaneity out of the job."
"And hours out of our lives..." Susan silently comments, making it hard for me to restrain some giggles.
"I, personally, am a real big fan of spontaneity," Kirk raises his glance up and looks at the clouds. He looks like he feels in the mood to be the mysterious poetic mailman, but I am not in the mood to deal with said mailman. At least, not kindly.
