5:23 p.m. Wednesday
The phone rings in my office with a bleep, bleep. That means an outside call is coming directly in. Most of the front office was gone so they come through.
I pick up.
“Hello, this is John McIntyre”
“Where is my Damn paper,” a scruffy sounding female voice bellows out.
“I am not sure. What does it look like?”
A long pause.
“I am Mrs. M (shortened by me) and I usually get my paper on Wednesday and It didn’t come.”
“You must live in Delmar Mrs. M. We had a problem at the post office last night, but everything is fixed and you will have it tomorrow.”
A long pause.
“I wanted it today, it is Wednesday.”
“Would you like me to drop one off to you on my way home Mrs...
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