The Mailwoman: Chapter XV

Hugh Hamilton

A pause, clad handsomely in silk and satin robes, and puffing a large, curvaceous oak pipe, which coughed rising slivers of dissipating smoke into the arched ceiling. Behind the pause, however, lay the real focus of Ben and Hugh's surprised gaze – and no, it's not another abstract manifestation. It was – or should I say she was – no, actually he was – dreadfully ineffable. But luckily I never intended a description and instead will put you as ease with one, slightly arresting name or, rather, job description: the butler. How he managed this amazing feat of stealth-acrobatics, is, unfortunately, beyond me; I will instead attempt to accurately transcribe his speech.
"So, what have you got for me?" I believe is what he said – give or take a few words.
"I really thought it was going to be that other person," revealed Hugh with a quaint hint of resentment.
The other person walked in at that moment and greeted all concerned with an indecisively blank expression, after which she remembered her original motivation and ignorantly slipped into the kitchen. Something happened after that – I wasn't really paying attention – which had, I think, no real bearing on the narrative but led quite neatly into the next utterance.
"Oh, here's the letter," said Ben, brandishing the uncomplimentary letter as dignifyingly as the violet would allow.
"Are you going to open it?" asked Hugh hopefully.
Not being a fan of the current author, the butler instead decided to wait for the next writer to step in before he replied.