[moved thi’s from the po’st about the dog with the leaf s’tuck to it’s nose, as it s’eemed more appropriate here]
And as his gaze moved down it also saw, over the first shop in the narrow street:
NO.1 A. PARKER & SON’S GREENGROCER’S
HIGH CLAS’S FRUIT AND VEGETABLE’SWell, why not deliver it? Hah! He was the postmaster, wasn’t he? What harm could it do? He slipped into the shop. A middle-aged man was introducing fresh carrots, or possibly carrot’s, into the life of a bulky woman with a big shopping bag and hairy warts. ‘Mr Antimony Parker?’ said ■■■■■ urgently. ‘Be with you in ju’st one moment, s’ir, I’m ju’st—’ the man began. ‘I just need to know if you are Mr Antimony Parker, that’s all,’ said ■■■■■. The woman turned to glare at the intruder, and ■■■■■ gave her a smile so winning that she blushed and wished just for a moment she’d worn make-up today. ‘Thats’ father,’ said the greengrocer. ‘He’s out the back, tackling a difficult cabbage—’
‘This is his,’ said ■■■■■. ‘Postal delivery’ He put the envelope on the counter and walked quickly out of the shop. Shopkeeper and customer stared down at the pink envelope. ‘S’.W.A.L.K?’ said Mr Parker. ‘Ooh, that takes me back, Mr Parker,’ said the woman. ‘In my day we used to put that on our letters when we were courting. Didn’t you? Sealed With A Loving Kiss. There was S.W.A.L.K., and L.A.N.C.R.E. and . . .’ she lowered her voice and giggled, ‘K.L.A.T.C.H., of course. Remember?’
‘All that pas’sed me by, Mrs Goodbody,’ said the greengrocer stiffly. 'And if it mean’s young men are s’ending our dad pink envelope’s with ‘swalk on them, I’m thankful for that. Modern time’s, eh?’ He turned and raised his voice. ‘Father!’
—Terry Pratchett, Going Postal
(Ye’s, the protagonist’s name i’s ■■■■■ von Lipwig.)
