*****
Upon my return home, in the entrance hall of the building I bumped into the postman – a tall round-shouldered guy Henry who started his work before the majority of people opened their eyes. Henry always acted very weird, and it made him absolutely unlike all stereotypes of a postman.
I often met him after jogging and each time I greeted him, but he rarely answered, usually turning his head and pretending not to hear me.
“Hello, Henry!” I was true to myself, not really expecting a reply.
“You’ve got a letter today. I’ve already put it into your mailbox.” the postman murmured quite unexpectedly, probably deciding that I was worthy of a brief conversation with him.
“Thanks, Henry!” I said.
“That’s my job!” the postman uttered and disappeared behind the door.
*****
“It is this meeting with Henry Hall that interests me,” the lawyer said. “Henry was questioned by a CCIA agent about who the sender of the letter was. Tell me about that!”
“Actually, Henry only delivered envelopes for me from one snail mail correspondent.”