Maybe Say It

Every place has a story. The post office holds thousands of them.
Each story is told in different ways.
Most of the time, with words written on a parchment.
Other times, with photographs of people, places, and things.
And on some occasions, with objects encased within a cardboard box.

Every story has a storyteller. The post office welcomes every one of them.
Their faces reveal all kinds of emotions.
Excitement when sending an invitation for a wedding.
Relief after completing the required documents for an application.
Grief while mailing a late relative’s belongings.

Every storyteller has a recipient. The post office delivers to some of them.
Their palms grasp at different speeds and in different manners.
Eager, open hands hurriedly stretched out.
Trembling and weak arms, hesitant to reach.
A vacant and empty space, leaving things unclaimed.

Every story has a place to be. The post office sends them there.
Sometimes they arrive. Sometimes they take the long way around. Sometimes they come back home.
Delivered. It found the heart it was meant for.
Forwarded. It took a detour before finding the right hands.
Return To Sender. It has not been heard, but at least it has been said.