You were absolutely smitten with your neighbour, Theodore Laurence; Laurie. He was a sensitive, passionate, abashed young man with a penchant for mischief.

You often caught glimpses of him peeking through the windows of the towering Parnassus. Today, you were mystified by your luck; because there he was.

You were perplexed; he looked sorrowful. Laurie was slowly trudging up the barren snowy hill, making his way tardily towards Parnassus, away from the mailbox. He looked disappointed.