The unknown package

I’m on yet another boring day at my job; Receiving letters and parcels, storing letters and parcels, sorting letters and parcels, and sending them off for delivery. Taping up letters and parcels, cutting letters and parcels open, marking letters and parcels, tearing letters and parcels, and throwing letters and parcels away.

Now, you are probably thinking to yourself, ‘Jeez, that is a lot of mention of ‘letters and parcels’.’ Well, welcome to my very dull life. That is exactly what my job is all about; letters and parcels, letters and parcels, letters and parcels, letters and parcels, letters and parcels, letters and parcels. And let me tell you right now...it is endless. There is an endless supply of them here at the Intergalactic post office. They come in, day in and day out, through meteor shower or sun shine. That is one thing that is always for certain. It is always certain that people, of every race, color, species, nationality, planet, and galaxy, will always send mail.

I guess that is why I opted to have this job in the first place; it was one of the easiest jobs to land. You know, many people often wonder what a college Space Engineering graduate like my self is doing at a post office. The thing is, I often wonder that my self as well.

“Xia!” an impatient voice calls from behind me. “Quit slacking around and keep sorting out that bin of new parcels,”

The voice belongs to my supervisor at the post office; in her ruby red uniform and white patent boots, with a holographic clipboard always in hand, she towers over most. She gets her grand height from her alien genetics. Shame that my own alien genes never kicked in to give me a similar growth spurt.

“I told you to sort them out hours ago,” she continues, “And you are still not done with them? For goodness sake, when will you start taking this job seriously? When will you start putting in some passion for the thing that literally pays your bills?”

I fight a familiar urge to roll my eyes. She wants ‘passion’ from me, when I literally just get paid minimum wage. Regardless, I suck it in and kiss ass. She is my boss, after all.

“So sorry boss, it won’t happen again. I completely assure you,”

She sighs, flicking her large green ears, “I want to believe you, but I don’t know. You are already on very thin ice, Xia. If you are not that psyched to be here, maybe you should just leave-”

“I assure you boss, I really want to be here. I love my job!” I lie through my teeth.

“Then I want to see a little more effort from you! If you really love this job, prove it.” she says, shrugging and narrowing her eyes. “If you want to keep your role here, quit looking so bored all the time and work harder. I will be keeping an eye on you, Xia,”

And with this, she walks away. When she’s out of range, I finally roll my eyes. It feels so good to do this. Maybe I would ‘quit looking so bored all the time’ if something interesting actually happens for once at this place.

Anyways, I lightly groan and go back to sorting new parcels. All of a sudden, a brown paper box catches my eye. It’s medium size and crazily enough, it has no ‘From’ or 'To' sticker on it.

“What the hell? How did it even get this far if it has no address-”

Steadily, I pluck the brown paper box out of the bin and peer at it. I ponder what is in it anyway? Something with high value, perhaps; Gold? Jewels? A priceless Spaceship battery? Soon enough, I get paranoid. I’ve heard lots of tales of other Intergalactic post offices getting bombed and attacked by space terrorists. It could be possible that the parcel contains a bomb in it, hence, it has no address.

But as quickly as this thought comes in, it goes away as I snap out of it.

“Don’t be silly, Xia,” I mutter under my breath to my self, “You are just jumping to conclusions,”

So if not that, what is in the parcel then?

Just then, a nosy colleague snatches the brown paper box right from my fingers.

“Whatcha got there?” he smirks, closely inspecting it.

I try to get it back but he’s too quick. And it’s shocking, especially as he’s only a human.

“Give it back, Ophe!” I swipe for it several times.

“Wow, it has no address?” he snickers. “We gotta show the boss...she’ll know what to do,”

“What? No! Give it back-”

He’s already walking away from me. I have no choice but to trail after him to where he stands, showing the parcel to our supervisor.

“Xia found it. What do we do with it. Ma’am?” Ophe shrugs, adjusting his shiny hat.

The supervisor narrows her kohled eyes at it and she sighs, “It isn’t our problem. It’s got no address, so throw it in the discard chute,”

After, I watch in horror as Ophe tosses the parcel straight into the discard chute beside him. Then he strolls past me, a smug smirk on his stupid face.

And just like that, the one time that something interesting happens in this damned post office, is no more. I’m instantly back to being bored as hell. Jeez...I hate this job.