Why do people feel the need to harm someting so helpless? It is harmless, innocent....
There it sits, at the end of my drive, in the rain, sleet, snow, ice, and wind- everyday- waiting.
It only gets one day a week off and the occasional holiday, and still it sits there, waiting.
Some days it waits for nothing.
Some days it is crammed so full I don't know how it doesn't burst apart at the seams.
It it weathered... old. But still it stands, like a faithful friend or a trusted companion.
It is my mailbox. My mailbox has never harmed anyone. It is in no one's way. It exists.
But last night, someone felt the need to kill my mailbox. It stands on a wooden post. Well... it did. Untill last night. I went out this morning to find the post broken off at the ground, the box beyond repair.
I know I am not the first person to have this happen. I know that sometimes hoodlums go about hitting mailboxes with ball bats for fun. But this has not happened around here before, and when it happenes, it's usually in the summertime.
There were no tire tracks as if a vehicle "accidentaly slid into it". There were footprints.
So today I say goodbye to my trusty mailbox, and be thankful that I have a mail service and a PMB# to fall back on. I will be filing a formal change of address today.
There it sits, at the end of my drive, in the rain, sleet, snow, ice, and wind- everyday- waiting.
It only gets one day a week off and the occasional holiday, and still it sits there, waiting.
Some days it waits for nothing.
Some days it is crammed so full I don't know how it doesn't burst apart at the seams.
It it weathered... old. But still it stands, like a faithful friend or a trusted companion.
It is my mailbox. My mailbox has never harmed anyone. It is in no one's way. It exists.
But last night, someone felt the need to kill my mailbox. It stands on a wooden post. Well... it did. Untill last night. I went out this morning to find the post broken off at the ground, the box beyond repair.
I know I am not the first person to have this happen. I know that sometimes hoodlums go about hitting mailboxes with ball bats for fun. But this has not happened around here before, and when it happenes, it's usually in the summertime.
There were no tire tracks as if a vehicle "accidentaly slid into it". There were footprints.
So today I say goodbye to my trusty mailbox, and be thankful that I have a mail service and a PMB# to fall back on. I will be filing a formal change of address today.
