I stood by the book drop and waited. The wind whipped around the parking lot, small cyclones pushing around the big oak leaves until they caught in flower beds lined with pine straw. I was cold and tired of waiting.
The small vehicle entered the parking lot long after my patience had left. I stared at the white and blue paint job, flaking and faded from the elements. I felt more for the vehicle than the occupant.
"Banned," Cindy said, pulling the small mail truck in front of the book drop.
"Cindy," I said, waiting.
We stared at each other. Her small eyes matched the lifeless color in her hair, the same color you would have if you freezer burned chocolate. The mouth turned down, forever giving away the horrid soul that lay within.
"You gonna ask me, librarian?" she said.
"Waiting on you, postal… whatever."
"Carrier. Mail carrier, you two-bit book pimp."
"Whatever. You got it?"
"Of course I do. Wasn't easy to find."
"Don't know why not," I said, "Not for a mail carrier."
I emphasised the last word. The post office might be good at moving things, but they were shit at finding them. She handed me the package, small and brown and wrapped in twine.
"You sure this will work?" I asked.
"It'll work," Cindy said, spitting near my feet, "It'll get the job done."
"I guess this is where you go," I said.
"Not yet. Here," she handed me the days mail, a few small envelopes and a copy of Cosmo.
I gathered the materials and walked away. I heard the small battery wine of the mail truck as she puttered off into the street. When I opened the door, I looked back but she was gone.
"Did you get it?" Lyra asked. I handed her the mail and walked to the desk. I used scissors for the twine and ripped at the paper.
The new mail scale, new being relative to free, sat on the desk before me. I tested its little digital readout with a cup full of pens. It worked.