Your thoughts seemed to have been interrupted by a firm knock on the door. You set your book down, getting up, and putting it on the counter before coming and opening the door. A man, maybe early 20’s, was standing there. He was in a mailman’s getup, with curled red hair, orangey, yellow skin, and a big, welcoming smile. He spoke with a southern twang, tenderly and kindly. “Hello, Sir/ma’am/other! I’m the neighborhood mailman, Eddie Dear, but you can call me Eddie. I got some mail for ya!”