It stands there always. Sometime alone. Sometime with others. Some feed it. Many visit it. In rain it stand, in sun, in day, in night. Guardian of the secrets within. Keeper of the mysteries shrouded in paper and string.
Veronica walked over to it and stood in front of it. Was it in there? She thought to herself. Had it arrived? A man nearby glanced in her direction. A woman stopped talking to her friend and turned to see what would happen. Two people walking stopped to watch. Excitement. Anticipation. Veronica opened the mailbox. Slowly. Carefully...
It was empty.
Disappointing post she thought and walked away.