She halted her patrol in loping mid-stride. A thin object had been slipped through the slot in the exterior door. Everyone knew that mailmen were extinct, but her database insisted the object on the floor was a sleeve of wood pulp which would contain a folded sheet of the same material on which she would find markings transcribed in arrangements intended to convey meaning.
Intriguing as it was, automated billing had depleted the account supporting her premium routines some time ago. She had n...
Published on July 03, 2017 05:00