Hugh Hamilton
Another unsightly and discomforting group of hours slid by in a hand-cranked convertible before the two travellers reached their destination. Walking uncertainly down to the river's edge, they questioned a local fishermen on the whereabouts of a house, and he promptly and icily aimed his elbow at a small, almost idyllic little house on a miniature island that lay fifty metres from the shore. After watching a man water-ski behind an eight-person row-boat for about half an hour, they entered the water and waded clumsily to the opposite bank.
"Yes?" said a lightly dressed and depressingly skinny woman as she held open the door.
Ben smiled politely and revealed the envelope.
"Oh," she muttered rudely, snatching the letter from Ben's grasp.
The door shut violently. They shrugged and returned to the river.
Laying down gently on the attractively-yellowed grass, Ben and Hugh let the remains of the sun beat away their dampness. A while later, they were almost surprised to find the face of a now-irrefutably alive woman looking over them.
"Hello," greeted the Mailwoman warmly.
Ben sighed.
"I've got your money," she said, holding up a plain white envelope. "But..."
Ben grimaced.
"What?" asked Hugh.
"Well, I promised this would be the last time..."
Ben scowled.
"And?" Hugh screamed.
"It's just that I have all this other mail I want to deliver and I was wondering..."
"No!" yelled Ben. "No more!"
"Fine, suit yourselves,"
"Wait," said Hugh, "how much if we deliver the rest of the mail?"
"Fifty-thousand, provided you don't take this," she waved the envelope teasingly.
Ben made a grunting noise.
"If this is the absolute last of it," began Hugh, "then we accept."
Ben closed his eyes and stopped listening.
"Great," she nodded excitedly and disappeared behind a boat-house.
Soon she returned, dragging a large brown bag of mail behind her.
"Don't worry, it's all addressed the one place," she reassured, seeing Hugh and Ben's horrified expressions.
And so off they went to Landscape Square.
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