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Jay View Drop Down
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    Posted: January/13/2004 at 5:57am

The Stamp

It was an average day weather-wise, with a normal amount of cloud and the wind was from the usual direction at a pretty much normal speed. Our hero woke up, got out of bed, walked across the room and ate some kind of food that was there—on the table.

 

Later he was outside, dressed, and he was walking down the sidewalk to another place. When he got there, he opened the door and entered the building. The place—and here’s the kicker—was the post office. You see, he had to mail a stamp. His friend was a stamp collector and he wanted to mail a stamp to his friend, which he (the first guy) thought he (the second guy) didn’t have (not the friend, but the stamp). It had a tree on it. Of course, not a real tree, which would be silly. There were many stamps with a tree on them but he thought his friend didn’t have this one.

 

Later, when he visited his “stamp-collecting friend”, it turned out that his friend already had the stamp but he (the second guy) was grateful for the thought anyway and kept the stamp as a “spare” just in case the first stamp “disappeared.” His friend asked why he (the first guy, of course, because he wouldn’t ask himself and anyway, then I would have written “himself”) didn’t collect stamps and he said that he (of course, the first guy, otherwise he would have been answering his own question) didn’t have time. Later, he went home and sat down in his chair. He paused, while still sitting in the chair, to recollect on the events of the day. He had gotten up; that part he remembered well, and he knew of course that he must have done it. He had gone to his friend’s house. He had given him the stamp…no wait, he had mailed it first—which now, in “retrospect”, was not efficient at all. Then the friend had said that he either had it or didn’t have it…which was it? If only he could remember…oh yeah, he had it. According to his clock on the wall the time was 6pm. It was time for dinner. He made dinner and ate it and then washed the dishes, put them away where the dishes go and walked back to his chair beside the piano. Then he sat down in it (the chair, not the piano).

 

Later, after dinner that is, in fact a few days after that particular dinner I mentioned in the last paragraph, he checked his mail and there was a letter from his uncle—with the same stamp on it!!

 

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