He woke up late. Not late compared to a workday but late even for his regular weekend sleep in. It was 10:42. At last he was free from work for three days. He lay in bed the morning light casting a ray across his bed. The bustle of traffic and pedestrian chatter from the street outside seeped in even through the closed window. There were things that needed to be don’t laundry, groceries, paying the internet bill. But all seemed too tedious to rouse him from this spot where he was comfortable. Her closed his eyes again the honking of a truck followed by someone shouting something inaudible but most certainly rude prevented him from relaxing.
The outburst from work kept clawing it’s way into his mind. He relived the moment wishing he could have just stayed quiet. Second guessing himself for grabbing one of those gross energy drinks. He wished he just hadn’t gone to work that day, or come in late with some excuse. A system outage at his apartment that locked him in the elevator to his apartment complexes secure courtyard for an hour or two. It had happened to him before, one more time would have been believable. He knew he should be grateful to have a job, even if it was boring, even if the pay wasn’t great, he was lucky to have a job with some stability since AI had taken so many office jobs. He had been told this hundreds of times before, but it didn’t really make him feel that much better.
It didn’t matter, it was best to clear his mind and worry about all that latter. With the whole day off and no serious commitments it was time to investigate that P.O. box. There was laundry to be done and some shopping before dinner but there should be time for all three. He pulled out some sheets of blank printer paper and a few envelopes he had snagged from work a while back knowing a need would arise at some point. It had taken a lot longer than expected to put his loot to use but at least he had planned ahead. He stared at the paper for a moment and twirled the pen around. He had no idea what to say. He sat for a few minutes, which felt like an hour and decided he needed to address his chores before he list him self in this task.
He threw his dirty clothes from the week into a bag and ran down the laundry room on the first floor. He tossed the load in the washer and headed back to write a letter. He addressed the envelope first, assuming the local zip code was accurate. He decided it was best to not put his return address or his real name, just a generic name and a scribble of East 3rd ave and some numbers to pass inspection at a glance.
He didn’t know what to write, ore even who he was writing to. The whole thing could have been some sort of drawn out joke. If that was the case it didn’t really matter what he wrote so he set pen to paper and let his hand move and his mind flow. “I’m not sure what to write or who I am writing to, so it’s hard to know what to write. I know there is a chance no one will ever read this which makes it a little easier since there is no final grade and no judgement. To be honest I am bored and writing this seemed like as good a use of my time as any other pursuit. I found your New Lean Zine Vol. 3 out in town and I liked it. It was weird but I now that I have read it I want to see the first two volumes.”
He read it over. It was nothing special but it would work. He didn’t even know if the intended recipient would ever receive the letter let alone read it. Just to be safe he write his return address with “feel free to write back if you want an old fashion pen pal.”
It was a shot in the dark. He folded the paper and placed it in the envelop. He stripped the plastic off of the adhesive seal and pressed it shut.
He was ready to mail it off but he needed stamps and he still needed to do his grocery shopping.
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