You are a deflated football lost in the moody old lady’s brambles behind the tall hedge .
You are slippery, slimy hand sanitizer,waiting to sting somebody’s paper cut.
You are a dusty old christmas card from December waiting in the dormant letter box.
You are an important letter posted through the door ripped up by the ferocious dog.
You are that delightful feeling when you hear the glorious sound of the door bell and the post man standing there with your package the day before it was supposed to come.