MidReal Story

Beyond Deliveries: A Postbox's Quest

Richard Taiaroa

Scenario:Tired of being a postbox, I journey through the city, searching for meaning beyond delivering letters.

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Tired of being a postbox, I journey through the city, searching for meaning beyond delivering letters.

park bench, friends with Posty and other urban objects, wooden with intricate carvings, humorous and laidback.

street lamp, friends with Posty and other urban objects, tall with a glowing lightbulb, wise and supportive.

sentient postbox, friends with other urban objects, metallic with a small screen and a slot for letters, curious and introspective.

Another day, another letter.

I’m a postbox, it’s my job to receive mail.

I wish I could deliver them sometimes.

Just once, I’d love to know what it feels like to hold a letter in my... hands?

If I had hands.

I wish I had hands.

Instead, I have a slot for people to put their mail through.

It’s not very exciting.

I stand here day and night, in all kinds of weather, never going anywhere or doing anything.

Just standing here.

Being red.

Looking like a postbox.

Receiving mail.

That’s my life.

Oh, and being ignored by everyone who walks by.

I mean, sure, some of them put their letters in me, but none of them actually look at me.

I’m just a postbox.

I don’t exist.

Well, that’s not true.

I exist, just like the street lamp across the road exists, or the bench in the park across the way exists.