The angels they keep coming

I sat on the dark side of the house. This was on account of head being unhappy and moaning about how sunny it was outside, and why couldn’t it have stayed grey and miserable like it has been all autumn and winter (so far)?

On account of that head, I was also not really doing anything other than existing. So, looking up from a book I was about to ditch, I caught sight of the postman standing by the front door, waving at me. It seemed he didn’t want to ring the doorbell. Couldn’t see why not. It was almost noon and the only person still asleep could do with waking up.

Sally Rippin, Angel Creek

Dragging myself to the door I was handed a fairly small jiffybag, which I opened, once I was back in my chair on the dark side. It was an angel book; Angel Creek by Sally Rippin.

Because it was the kind of day when you just sit, I continued with the sitting. 30 minutes later a FedEx van stopped outside. Thinking I’d save FedEx-man having to pling-plong, I went to open the door. But it turned out I wasn’t needed. He plopped his tiny cardboard parcel through the letter box.

I brought it over to the dark side and opened it. Out fell Angel Creek by Sally Rippin.

Sally Rippin, Angel Creek

Now, it’s not unheard of, getting two or more copies of the same book. Not usually on the same day, however. And definitely not wrapped differently and sent and delivered by different routes.

And I don’t know why the postman had to wave to me, seeing as FedEx chap was able to post the same book, but wrapped in more unwieldy cardboard through the letter box.

I’m just assuming someone really, really wanted me to have angels.


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