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Flash fiction: The mailman

by Meredith Davises

Created on: February 05, 2011

Joel was about ninety years old living alone in the same house all these years. He could see well enough to walk to the grocery store but it was apparent to the mailman that he no longer opened his mail or noticed that his electricity was turned off.

The mailman made a call to a service agency who responded talking Joel into taking their help. Joel was a pleasant man baking pies all the time. He had become hard of hearing although he appeared physically fit. He had a keen sense of smell making remarkably good pies.

The mailman delivered Joel’s mail for fifteen years noting during holidays that he never received personal letters. Joel told all that he had a sister living nearby although no one had ever seen her. “She’s busy raising kids and going to church,” said Joel.

If Joel was near ninety, his nephew was probably sixty years old thought the mailman. Joel had shown the mailman a picture of his father who served in WWI. The mailman added Joel to the Veteran’s list of families who served in the military asking that they call on Joel from time to time.

It was a rainy day that the mailman delivered mail and smelled pie burning. He walked around the house to the back door stepping inside to turn off the oven. It was then that he saw Joel lying in the hallway with a telephone cord wrapped around his neck.

The mailman held Joel’s mail pending notification of his beneficiary. He was on his route when he noticed an outgoing letter on Joel’s mailbox. Upon his knock, a young man about twenty years of age answered.

He was a pleasant man with a slight limp telling the mailman that his mother was on business at the church. The mailman smelled pie baking. “My mother says my apple pies are the best she’s ever had. Stay for a slice. She’ll be home soon.”

On a whim, the mailman accepted the invitation. Shortly, his mother returned home. She was a very sweet sincere woman. “This feels like family,” thought the mailman.

The mailman lived in Joel’s house more years than he could remember and learned what had made Joel happy and content was much more than baking.

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