THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE

He was sweating. His back ached. His arms couldn't carry the heavy parcel much further along the pedestrianised street. 4300, 4301, 4302... Almost there. He didn't think about the walk back to the start of the street that awaited. His car was parked outside house No.1. 4376. He had made it. He dropped the parcel … Continue reading THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE