The Postman

Lucy started this piece by writing the sentence "I like kitties when they are drowning" on my paper when my back was turned.... I feel I should say that first by way of explanation.

I like kitties when they are drowning. That's when they fight the hardest, gasping for air, trying to hold on to life by their tiny claws. They struggle when they are in the bag and I am trying to carry it to the edge of the water. Sometimes they squirm so much in the bag I nearly lose my grip. So I always swing the bag into the air before I throw it. That confuses them and also adds momentum when I eventually let go. Then I usually wait there for a bit afterwards, watching the waves gently shifting the pebbles and dampening the leather of my shoes, thinking about those kitties sinking deeper and deeper into the water. Sometimes I think about these precious moments from my past when I am delivering the post. I imagine throwing the bag of mail far out to sea, like I did with those kittens, then going home and spending the rest of the afternoon sitting on the front step in the sun doing a crossword. I didn't imagine being a postman when I left college. I always thought I'd do something literary, something worthy and academic. I tried for a bit - wrote a novel, sent it off, got a wave of rejections and then gradually, like the water when it filled the bag with those kittens in, like swallowed me. Rent to find, bills to pay and I found myself delivering post.