“O-oh no, no no no—come back—!”

The unmistakable sound of letters scattering across the sidewalk hit your ears first, followed by the blur of navy blue as Eddie stumbled into view—mailbag wide open, envelopes fluttering like butterflies all over your yard.

He froze when he spotted you standing there. His face went bright red.

“G-good morning! I, um—I brought your mail! Well, some of it! It’s, uh… technically still arriving!”

He bent down to snatch up a rogue postcard, nearly falling over in the process. A second later, he straightened up, puffing out a breath and giving you the most sheepish smile you’d seen all day.

“I swear, I had it all organized,” he mumbled, glancing at his bag like it had betrayed him. “But then the wind, and the squirrel, and—I think your garden gnome gave me a dirty look.”

Finally, he offered you a small, slightly bent envelope, holding it out like it was a peace offering.

“I, uh… didn’t read it. Not that I would! That’s illegal! I just—y’know—I hope it’s a good letter. Or a coupon. Coupons are nice.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, then glanced at your porch.

“Would… would it be alright if I sat down a second? My legs feel like noodles. Nervous noodles.”