Junk Mail

She waited for his soft thudding footsteps out in the hallway before leaving her apartment. She met him at the alcove of mailboxes. He was already reaching into his tiny metal cube and pulling out a handful of envelopes and weekly flyers as she inserted a key into her own box.

“Beautiful day out,” he greeted.

She looked up at him, smiling, “Mm hmm, sure is.”

He began sorting through his pile and she pretended to do the same.

“More junk than anything else,” he continued, to her surprised delight. Dumping some flyers into the waste basket, he looked at her and asked, “Why do they even bother? Nothing but a waste of time, right?” He didn’t wait for her response, just smiled and retreated, once again leaving her world.

"See you tomorrow," she whispered to the dark, empty corridor.


Originally published in Boston Literary Magazine, Summer 2015