Mailman, by Justin Wall

I navigate the corridors, scarcely making a sound. My presence is inconspicuous as I carefully listen with intent. From the high echelons of power, to the bile spewed by sycophants, nothing has ever escaped my attention.

I have seen the ascent of the chosen and been present at their fall from grace. I have witnessed sordid actions fulfilled by the adulterous, blissfully unaware that every innuendo and indiscretion has not gone unnoticed. No act is without consequence; all secrets will be exposed.

I am abstract.

I am resolute.

I am judgment with a satchel bag, and I’ve been watching you.

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