‘The Most Mundane Journey Ever’

‘The time had come to act.’ he muttered to himself as he exasperatedly signed his name at the end of the letter. The writer leant back in his chair shakily as he laughed, ‘…that council, incompetent!’ After a brief moment of rest to recover from the strenuous writing he reached for the page and began to fold it, he delicately folded the page perfectly, ensuring there was not any sort of exposed lap that could make for easy unfolding. He continued, pinching the crease all the way along to ensure the strongest, most steadfast fold. ‘Let’s see them open this!’, he laughed sadistically.

The folding was now complete; he rested, let off a cancerous sounding cough and reached for the envelope. He opened the envelope wide by not so wide as to let the far corners be dragged in. The writer forcefully slid the page into the envelope as far as it would go. ‘…bureaucratic bastards!’ he laughed again. This moment of vindictive, vengeful joy was broken only by another bout of cancerous coughing. Having now penned the address on the envelope, all that was left was to affix a postage stamp. The writer lurched out of his chair and lumbered over to the specialised drawer especially for postage stamps. He grasped the handle and pulled gently, the drawer willingly slid open; he smiled at the success of the specialised postage stamp drawer. He reached in, navigated the vast array of postage stamps and raised the commemorative 50 cent. ‘Ah, the commemorative 50 cent.’ he reiterated as he held the stamp in awe of its philatelic beauty.

He slowly walked back to his chair, sat down and slowly, delicately began to affix the stamp. He got in close, his tongue hung out in perfuse concentration. The stamp edged closer and closer and it was affixed, perfectly on the box that said ‘Affix postage stamp here.’ It was done, the letter, having meditated n complaining for weeks and weeks, it was ready for postage. ‘Just wait ‘til they read this!’ the writer laughed to himself as he got up letter in hand, and headed to the door of his apartment. He attained a firm grasp of the knob and turned, pulling the door open. He lumbered out and shut the door behind him.

He began to trudge down the stairs; he arrived at the intermediate platform, turned 180 degrees and continued down the next flight of steps. He arrived at the ground floor and walked enthusiastically to the front door, opened it and arrived outside. He shivered in anticipation; he now began to quickly walk over to the mailbox just a few metres from his apartment building. He firmly grasped the envelope controllingly as he grew closer and closer to the mailbox.

He reached for the handle and opened the large metal door of the mailbox. He placed the envelope delicately in the tray of the door/tray hybrid door of the mailbox. The deed was done. He paused and shivered in exhilaration. ‘…that council, incompetent!’ he laughed as he walked back, weak in the knees, to his apartment.