Post Office, Wednesday
When the mailman from the mainland stopped in to drop off some letters, he just stared at all the colors in the post office. Most of the postal workers got nervous under his gaze and scurried into the back, which Rude made a mental note of. Whatever they were under their disguises, he was pretty sure they weren't human -- at least, not if some of the things in the break room fridge were supposed to be "food". Maybe they were worried they'd be found out.
The mailman wasn't interested in them, though. His gaze locked on the colorful display of collectible stamps, and he stood in front of it, transfixed, for what seemed like ages.
Rude watched him silently from behind the counter. Eventually, he raised an eyebrow a fraction of a millimeter and asked, "You... gonna buy some?"
The mailman wasn't interested in them, though. His gaze locked on the colorful display of collectible stamps, and he stood in front of it, transfixed, for what seemed like ages.
Rude watched him silently from behind the counter. Eventually, he raised an eyebrow a fraction of a millimeter and asked, "You... gonna buy some?"