My feet nearly slid on the slick ground, wet from the first of spring's cold rain, as I hurried myself to open the mailbox. A fat stack of various envelopes sat inside, waiting for a human hand to rescue them from the cold tin can they were subject to. I snatched them up and quickly sorted through various junk, mostly addressed to my mom. Nothing. I sighed with disappointment. A knot formed in my stomach; the tardiness of the letter felt like a bad sign. I shook my head, forcing negative thoughts out of my mind. It would probably just be here tomorrow. Mail arrives late sometimes.
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