It now costs forty-one cents to mail a letter.I'm sitting here in horror, trying to wrap my mind around said egregious fact.
It costs forty-one cents to mail a letter.
It costs forty-one cents to mail a letter!
And yet there are no riots on the street. I hear nothing of tear gas and policemen, of broken glass and burning vehicles. No one has gone to Washington to demonstrate. No one has fled the country. The world still spins on its axis. Apparently, everything still goes on as normal.
Yet here I sit, petrified. Aghast at the demise of the country I love.
What I greatly feared has come upon me. I will most surely go broke. I will live in misery and perish in obscurity, the innocent victim of a tyrannical postal system.
I still have vague remembrances of the good old days, the days when one could mail a letter for twenty-nine cents. Sure, that was still too much, and you had to lick the back, but at least there was a little money left over to pay the bills after you paid the postage by which to mail them.
Not so these days.
We scraped together a small fortune and bought some stamps a few days ago. They were large and triangular, which struck me as rather odd. They were also unusually beautiful. Apparently, the post office has decided that they will obscure their evil by putting a new face on postage. Apparently, they have been successful.
But the truth remains. This is no time for sugar coating the matter. We have done that for too long already. Ladies and gentlemen, the end of all things is at hand. Prepare to meet your Maker.
It costs forty-one cents to mail a letter.
It costs forty-one cents to mail a letter!
