It was always misty in the mornings, and the fog was often hard to see through. But it was more tranquil. The air was fresh, and there wasn’t as much noise. This early, people would just start to wake up and get ready for work, ready to leave about twenty minutes later. Of course, that was how it should have been.
Just as Pryor went to cross the street, he heard the clopping of hooves at a frightening pace.
He whipped his head to the right, and if on cue, a worn down carriage, or what looked like one, came charging through the haze. The two horses pulling it cried out, as if telling anyone to get out of their way.
He quickly took a few steps back as the carriage stormed past him. The driver called out a quick apology as he sped into the distance.
Wonder what the rush is, Pryor thought as he made his way across the street.
As he turned the corner, heard a soft thud, and what sounded like the scattering of papers. He looked down to see the mail boy flat on his face, with mail dispersed over the sidewalk and spelling onto the road.
“Are you alright?” He asked as he knelt down to help the boy up.
“Yes, thank you. I seemed to have tripped over myself somehow.” The boy replied with a frantic smile, as he gathered the fallen papers.
“Why are you in such a rush?” Pryor questioned as he walked to the road, and picked up the envelopes that had dropped onto the pavement.
“Because there's so much mail to deliver, I don’t even know if I’ll finish today.” The boy said sullenly.
“I see. Well, good luck. Don’t push yourself too hard.” Pryor handed him the remaining pieces, then continued on his way.
“Thank you sir!” The boy called out after him with a smile. Then turned around, his smile turning to a cold expression as he scurried to his next destination.
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