I often watched his maneuvers from my bedroom window with great admiration. Those Tuesday mornings he zipped around the corner making the dross we left for him the night before disappear with grace and beauty, it was truly a sight to be seen. An art. A masterpiece. I would associate the efficiency to which he executed his task to that of a ballerina making perfect pirouettes as the contents of each refuse receptacle tumbled out in a confetti of crumpled notes and infested rotten fruits.

Until yesterday when you took the life of my dear, sweet, innocent, letter cozy.

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I pay no attention to the somewhat respectful organization of the irreversible damage you caused, for it makes no difference, you see, its heart is forever lost.

We shall miss you, protector of parcel. Robbed in your prime of all life had to offer. With so much yet to gain and so much yet to give. So many wonderful memories we’ve had over the years and I hold them all near and dear to my heart.

I’ll be sending you some letters right away. In heaven.

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