The Nice Thing About Strangers

Creative Non-Fiction Short Stories. :) Travel, Oldsters, Love, and Compassion.

Mr. Postman Bring Me A Dream

She tugs at her left earring as she leans to her right, nearer and nearer to his mail truck. His gray hair lilts in the breeze. Even at seventy, she has a thing for men in uniform. She admires his kneecaps with a sideways glance. Spring is finally here.

When cars pull into the complex and slow for the speed bump by the expanse of mailboxes, he looks busy, whistles while he works.  She chats with him, playing now with her watch, her bare ring finger. A resident comes for their junkmail. The woman eyes her neighbor warily before turning back to her darling civil servant. She asks about Wednesdays, the day the grocery store ads arrive. Is it a rough one for mailmen? She notes how rarely she receives any real mail. “You’re not alone,” he mutters and she sucks in her breath. Then she gives a slow, satisfied smile.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you…Tuesday…” She sighs for his benefit, lamenting the long weekend. She heads for home without a single envelope.

–Colorado Springs, Colorado.

Agate Beach, Oregon.

Agate Beach, Oregon.

20 comments on “Mr. Postman Bring Me A Dream

  1. vanbraman
    June 7, 2013

    Such a sweet story :-).

    • I love catching people in the middle of normal life, which is pretty fun when we pay attention! Lots to do! 🙂 Thanks!

  2. bearspawprint
    June 7, 2013

    may I reblog this?

  3. bearspawprint
    June 7, 2013

    Reblogged this on bearspawprint and commented:
    Beautiful vignette

  4. seanbidd
    June 7, 2013

    Moments, the everyday something changes 🙂

  5. hughcurtler
    June 8, 2013

    How sad. But beautifully described.

  6. anglophiletoad
    June 8, 2013

    Reminds me of my grandma turning on the Butler radio station every morning to listen to the obituaries and the hospital report. It was her daily connection to the outside world. And it was a reality check, I’m sure, as she listened for THE name, the friend of however many years, no longer with us…

    • Dad checks the obits all the time as well. Usually commenting on the age of the deceased in relation to himself! So we get one more day, one more opportunity. 🙂

  7. Sheri de Grom
    June 8, 2013

    Your title pulled me in!

  8. joannerambling
    June 8, 2013

    What a lovely sweet story

  9. vishalbheeroo
    June 12, 2013

    sweet and beautiful. M happy I found you:)

  10. fgassette
    June 17, 2013


    Thank you for visiting my blog today. I appreciate the time you took to stop by. May your day be filled with joy and peace.

  11. butimbeautiful
    June 24, 2013

    I really like your little story. It treats the 70 year old woman with a sort of respect that is refreshing to read.

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