« Is that all there is? » I asked my daughter as she handed over what looked suspiciously like an electricity bill and a bank statement. “Yeah, it hasn’t arrived,” she said, her eyes mirroring what was surely my own disappointment. Then she broke into a wide grin, pulled the small box from behind her back and handed it over.
I looked at it in stunned disbelief. It felt deliciously heavy in my hands and I was struck by the strangeness of it all. What sort of dark pact had Amazon made with the French Post Office? Having lived in the Alps for fourteen years, I was unable to remember a single occasion when something had been delivered on time.
The village isn’t on most maps and our quartier isn’t on any. A 24 hour delivery means sometime next week if you’re lucky and if the lorry driver can find you. As for La Poste, the service is so erratic and the staff often so cantankerous, that some days I wonder if we are not just a farm too far; too remote an outpost for their little yellow cars.
But today, only 9 hours after its release, it was here on my lap, under the jealous gaze of my daughter, who despite her fluency in English couldn’t read a word. I knew that Harry Potter was good at making things appear but I would never have imagined that La Poste possessed the same skills. A strange phenomenon indeed.
This post was inspired by Sunday Scribblings prompt: phenomenon. A little late I admit, but I did need to finish afore mentioned book first