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MidReal Story
Beyond Deliveries: A Postbox's Quest
Scenario:Tired of being a postbox, I journey through the city, searching for meaning beyond delivering letters.
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Grafi
graffiti artist who interacts with Posty and Lumi, young with vibrant clothes and a paintstained backpack, creative and rebellious.
Lumi
streetlight with a warm glow, friends with Posty and other urban objects, tall and slender with soft light bulbs, wise and nurturing.
Posty
sentient postbox, friends with other urban objects, rusty red with a curious gaze, adventurous and introspective.
I’m a postbox.
Not a particularly special one, just one of many in a large city.
I stand on a street corner, outside a row of terraced houses, and I’m painted a rusty red colour.
Not that anyone really notices.
People shove their letters in my mouth without even looking at me.
They don’t care that I have feelings too.
That I have thoughts.
That I’m alive.
Just like the streetlight across the street from me, or the graffiti-covered wall behind me.
Or the pavement beneath my feet.
We all live together in harmony, watching the humans scurry about their daily business, ignoring us as if we’re inanimate objects.
As if we’re not alive at all.
I used to deliver letters.
Long ago, when mail was carried by horse and cart, I’d open my door with a satisfying creak and allow the postman to deposit his burden inside me.
Then he’d take the letters out again and carry them to their destinations.
Nowadays, everything is delivered by email or messaging apps.
The few letters people do send get collected by a van that drives up and empties my interior with a sucking sound.
It’s boring.
I used to watch the postman walk up and down the street, delivering individual envelopes to each house.