Wednesday, October 17, 2007

The man who turned into a post-office box

A fable.

There was once a man who turned into a post office box. This is how it happened: one morning he woke up and found that he had turned into a post office box.
As he lay in bed considering the situation, his wife walked into the bedroom and said, "Oh my God - you're a post office box!"
This put him in a bad mood.

Later that day, the doctor walked into the room and looked over his patient, umming and awing in a stern yet authoritative medical manner he used to make his patients think they were going to die. (That way they were more grateful when they didn't, or more impressed when they did.)
"Ummm" he said gruffly. "Awww." he said peevishly. "Harumph."
Eventually, he cleared his throat and announced,
"This is bad. This is very bad. You have turned into a post office box. That makes four people this morning!"
"But doctor - what will I do?" cried the man who had turned into a post office box.
"Take two pills in the morning." cried the doctor over his shoulder. "Any pills will do, and it doesn't matter what morning either. They won't make any difference. I have some patients to attend to. Oh," he said as an afterthought, turning in the doorway and laying a pamphlet down on the bedroom table, "And you might find this helpful."

The pamphlet read,



All over the country people were turning into post office boxes. It was an average of one post office box for every 10 people. People looked worried. Bureaucrats looked anxious. The Prime Minister appeared on air and said concerning things in a concerned-sounding voice.

The man who had turned into a post office box watched all this with great concern.


As time went on and life progressed, the man who had turned into a post office box found himself more and more standing on street corners and letting men and women as they went by on their daily business put letters into him. He found it soothing. Sometimes, after a hard day's work post office boxing, he'd save a letter just to read to himself. (He knew he shouldn't, really, but he just couldn't resist it.

Furthermore, the man who had turned into a post office box began to look upon things in a different perspective. Maybe it wasn't so bad being a post office box after all? With so many other post office boxes now to keep him company, the man who had turned into a post office box thought he might start up a friendly society, of post office boxes. He imagined himself making bestial post office box noises beneath the crimson moons with packs of other wild and untamed post office boxes.

So he did.

MORAL: Don't turn into a post office box unless you want to.


Dale Slamma said...

Hideous! Sorry just wanted to say hideous. I wouldn't mind being an express post box or maybe a courier's van.

nailpolishblues said...

You wouldn't like to be a courier's van. The one that comes to work is inhabited by trolls. It's terribly frightening if you're not used to it. Of course, that van carries gore so I suppose the trolls might be attracted by that.

Maria said...

He had a problem with it because men want to be mailboxes, not postboxes.

It's nice to know he came to terms with it in the end.

TimT said...

Me, I think it would be rather swank to be a escritoire. But only on Tuesdays.

Nails, are the van's trollsome inhabitants the sort of lurksome trolls who just hide in the shade and growl menacingly at others? Or more the venturesome sort, who leave the van and go scurrying after fresh gore?

Caz said...

Yet not a word of advice for people who turn into plain old posts.

nailpolishblues said...

Quite venturesome. Always scurrying in and out of the van with their eskies full of gore. Were they not trolls one would suspect that they're engaged in some sort of work.

Email: timhtrain - at -

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