The Mailbox on the Corner

"And by the way, Monsieur Marius, I believe that I was a little bit in love with you." -Victor Hugo

She stood on the muggy corner

Of that All-American town

Swarming with foreign accents and tourists

But she didn't notice any of that

She was staring down the mailbox

Cold, blue metal with the words

U.S. MAIL

Running across the bottom

The bottom of her skirt fluttered

in the sticky wind

And Her fingers fluttered nervously

Clutching the white letter

She chewed on the once perfected nails

long since destroyed and forgotten

The wind tangled her fading curls

Her hand seemed suspended over that metal box

Not quite ready to let go