The Postal Poet of Nowhere
The town of Oakhaven was a place where the wind always smelled of wet ash and the horizon was a flat, grey line that never changed. It was a town of people who had given up on the idea of "elsewhere." Arthur was the town's only postman. He was a man of few words and a heavy coat, walking the same six miles of cracked pavement every day for twenty years. He knew every mailbox, every rusted gate,...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 2 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen