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Uncluttered (standard:other, 1916 words) | |||
Author: Spotlight | Added: Sep 06 2001 | Views/Reads: 3385/2218 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
Benny is recovering from a break-up by working at the Post Office. He is disgruntled! | |||
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story and ankle, the letter was deposited with the others, under a small tan lid. Some were worse then that, the ones that he actually kept on the desk in his room for his own amusement, but most had a normal name, with a heart beside it, or a smeared lip-stick kiss in the corner. He knew it was irrational, stopping the flow of love letters being impossible, some were not marked, some he might miss, and the internet had basically abolished the written letter in relationships, but somehow he felt justified that he was stopping just one Pennsylvanian town's stirrings of love. A love that may end in one letter. He picked up the last pile of letters, and walked across the clean mailroom floor, catching orange window light from the afternoon sun. Tomorrow the floor would be again littered with little mindless letters to sort, half of it junk mail for the elderly to send back, and the sane to throw away. He heard the squeaks of sneakers and shutting doors in the lobby, the usual sound of someone running late, and deposited the last few letters in with the others. He checked the clock on the wall, they had thirty seconds to spare. Benny turned and smiled, then stood motionless, as he gazed in her direction. He had often seen her in those faded blue jeans, with one ripped belt loop. Once as she lost her footing on a muddy hill at the Apple Harvest Festival, he had caught her by the shoulders only to slip and propel her onto him. When they finally stopped sliding, his backside was covered in thick brown mud, while her whole outfit was untouched. And the gray, stonewashed sweatshirt, with University of North Carolina stitched into it, that was his own, she had borrowed one cold night. Her hair was shorter, wavier, but her eyes had the same watery shimmer he had seen three months ago. She did not notice him, half blocked by another metal cabinet, her hand tentatively skimming across the desk to ring a bell for assistance. While on her finger, was an engagement ring, white even in the orange light. Benny smiled and a breathed deep. He walked towards her and saw half horror, half laughter light the features of her face. "How may I help you, miss?" Benny beamed. "Benny... I... long time no see." She smirked, juggling laughter and nervousness. "Three months today actually." Benny kept a smile, no teeth showing. "Wow... umm... wow." She was searching for words. "I see you have a ring. Good for you. Happy for you." "Yes." She started to say something confused, but her voice did not support it. He smiled back. "Why am I not in college right now? Well, I decided to drop out, since I was feeling kind of depressed and missed all my classes for two weeks. But, hey, this pays eight bucks an hour, and college definitely wouldn't have given any better opportunities." He didn't change his composure. "Please... don't be like this... I'm sorry, I really am." Her eyes pleaded with him. "Again, I say, How may I help you, miss?" Benny stopped smiling. "I just couldn't face you. I fell in love, OK? I fell in love... I'm sorry. I would've... returned your, your letters. But, I just..." He did not feel the warmth or love in her eyes anymore, they could lie to him, and cut into his soul like lasers. "just couldn't." "Happy for you." He paused. "You didn't come here to make amends, or profess your undying love for me, so what did you come here for?" Her heart sank visibly. "I came here to retrieve a letter." "Should get it in the next few days, or do you need a forwarding..." She interrupted, before a tangent of Benny's sarcasm began. "Its my own letter. I sent it." Benny's face faltered slightly in confusion, and for one second he may have believed she was taking back that letter almost three months ago. But, she went on. "I need it back, I made a terrible mistake. He would be crushed. I would be crushed." She began to cry, her hands to her sides, her head down. "Crushed?" He almost stabbed her in the heart while she was down, but his tone changed. "What does it look like?" "...its a white envelope, a heart is beside the name." She paused. "And the name?" She coughed, trying not to smile, "Pookie." Her eyes looked up, bloodshot, at Benny, who tried to hold back a laugh. "International?" He turned, knowing the answer. "Yep." His legs moved slowly, walking him to his desk. He felt the irony of his situation hit him heavily and the corner of his lips curved into a stunted smile. Almost turning, he could feel the look of prayer and hope her face was making. Then, he was crouching behind his desk, staring at the trash can, filled with letters. Hopes and dreams of non-existent fairy tale loves. Why should they be happy? He lifted the box, and dumped the contents onto his empty desk, some letters cascading to the floor. His hands sifted through the pile, flipping over white backs with drawings of flowers, one sickening lump of cuteness after another. "Honeybunch" flashed itself then fell onto the floor. "Muffinkins" was pushed off to the left. Then, a "Pookie" with no return address stared him in the face from the bottom-right corner, teetering on the edge. He thought of pushing it off the side, then dropping it into the "international" bin, saying Bon Voyage to "Pookie" in Nice. But, his hand grabbed the envelope, and brought it to his eye. He paused. She had been nervously twitching, her face like she was standing in the rain. "Is that it?" Benny looked down at the imperfect little heart that dotted the "i" in Pookie and smiled evilly. "Bon Voyage." he whispered to himself. "Yep, it is!" He walked over to her, crying in happiness and handed over the letter. She kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you so much Benny! Thank you, thank you. I thought I'd die." She hugged the letter, then promptly ripped it apart, laughing to him, hands shaking. "I can't believe it." "Me neither." Benny said without sarcasm. The realization was sudden. He wanted her to be happy. She stopped her jubilation, for a second, holding back tears to talk normally. "Would you like to go get something to eat... and talk maybe? I feel so bad. I was so mean to you." She was smiling, uncontrollably. "I can't help smiling, but I mean it, would you?" Benny sighed, "No thanks. Maybe some other time." "Oh, Alright." Nervousness started a small giddy laugh. "It was good seeing you. Umm... I'll go... and thank you." She turned, her shoes squeaking, her hands tightly clasping the torn pieces of the letter, as she pushed open the door. Out walked his last inkling hope of revenge, even wearing his sweatshirt. Quitting time. Benny pushed all the letters back into his bin, and carried it in his arms. The place looked so clean and uncluttered, only dust against the floor was left to be swept away silently. Benny walked to the dumpster just outside the door, throwing the whole plastic bin inside, smelling the stench of packaging and someone's two week-old lunch. With a few steps, he stood by his car, giving Andy and her maroon minivan the finger. One last time he smiled, jumped into the driver's seat and never came back. Tweet
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