Tearing hurry

Let’s see – your face is flushed; that’s a snarl, not a smile; your fingers are torn and bleeding; there’s nail damage – and you are still desperately clutching an unopened envelope.

All classic signs of battling with post that fights back.

The worst offenders are mails that come to you coyly stapled in the most unexpected places…a practice you’ve never understood.

Nowadays, with so many staples on envelopes, you could hurt your hands...so I let Growler open them for me!

Is there some secret central office somewhere, where the only sound heard is the ‘chathack, chathack’ of millions of staples being driven viciously, triumphantly, into envelopes by scores of workers with maniacal grins on their skeletal faces, gloating over the poor souls about to get their fingers pinched?

How about those missives that nestle inside covers that are so ‘fitting’, (looking more like a dress designer’s dream), you can only surmise that the mail was melted down, and poured in?

Even in this sms/email-infested era, an envelope bearing your name offers a charming air of promise… of free meals at weddings, sales, soul-stirring experiences of the intellectual, or glitzy, kind – the possibilities are endless.

How frustrating when this particular information highway becomes inaccessible.
Caution – opening recalcitrant covers can sometimes destroy crucial information.

Could we opt for quick access instead, please?

And step away from those staplers?
Surely, Nature’s last word cannot be defeated by a slip of a cover.