Last Friday when I enter both my home and the Red Zone illegally, I am surprised to get mail delivery. I mean, no one is supposed to be in this neighborhood with the open gas dig mere yards away at one end of the street, and the red-carded house that had the fire at the other end of the street.
Yet here comes the mailman, dropping my mail in the mailbox.
I wait until the coast is clear, then I slip out to grab the mail. Remember, I'm not supposed to be here. Nobody is supposed to be here, right? Anyway, there is one piece of mail. Just one. Nothing else. No flyers, no political postcards, no junk mail, nothing except for one envelope.It's my gas bill from Columbia Gas.
Fuckers.
