Zebulon Huset

I'm sorry snail, I didn't see you sliding across the sidewalk like a wad of butter on a slowly warming skillet. I'm sorry mailbox lock, for missing with my key and scratching your chrome. It's such a small key. I'm sorry mail key, for calling you small. You aren't small, you're compact. That makes you more efficient. I'm sorry house key, I understand the mailbox lock's smaller than door lock, and that he'd break off his teeth trying to muster the strength to move that heavy, oh, right, heavy and stiff deadbolt. (Yes, mail-key, I know that he's full of himself, I'm sorry for placating him, but if he decides to run off I have to call a locksmith and they don't accept apologies. The last one I called wouldn't even take a check.) So, so sorry, morning, for stepping on your sidewalks, I'll try to be more considerate in the future.