Éponine could ignore the trio of pigeons perched on a bench outside the post office, for the most part. They weren't bothering her, or trying to steal her food, or flying at her head every time she had to go out and make deliveries, or anything bothersome ( Read more... )

Éponine had made a point of hiding all weekend, a decision that had not come without a twinge of worry that she was too much like her father. Those worries seemed to be few and far between these days, luckily, and anyhow she hadn't gotten wind of any brats wandering the streets of Fandom looking for her, so she was feeling all right about the ( Read more... )

Well, today was a fine day for the place to be a mess because of rampaging bunnies, wasn't it? Éponine was just glad the island was small, honestly, or she might have resulted to employing every method of persuasion at her disposal to get people -- island wildlife, even -- to come and help her clean up before it was time to open ( Read more... )

Éponine had gotten up absurdly early this morning, not because she wanted to but because Alouette had decided to go rampaging around, knocking things over with no regard for the fact that some people might want to sleep ( Read more... )

Someone kept calling today, wanting to see if their package had arrived yet; Éponine had looked it up in the system the first time, and upon noting that it had only been in transit from two continents and seven dimensions away since this morning had not bothered to look it up again on any of the subsequent calls ( Read more... )

Today was likely to be a slow one, Éponine suspected, although she wouldn't be surprised if everyone left on the island suddenly decided to mail out hundreds of things today just because she'd thought otherwise ( Read more... )

Colorfully foil-wrapped chocolates, occasionally accompanied by a few bars of music or an aggressively cheerful and vocal tiny bird, were bursting out of random mailboxes today. And out of random drawers. And cabinets. And envelopes ( Read more... )

Éponine's cat had, it seemed, chosen the middle of last night to be particularly rambunctious, knocking over several stacks of books, an empty tequila bottle (that luckily landed on a pile of laundry and didn't shatter), and -- by some means that Éponine didn't even want to contemplate -- a chair. Among other things ( Read more... )

Éponine had not changed out the calendars in the lobby at the end of last week, out of a sudden, half-random fit of stubbornness: it was a day or two too early to do so, and that was silly ( Read more... )

Éponine hadn't almost forgotten what day it was, having been thrown off by an extra day off. Absolutely not. That wasn't why she hurried into the post office just barely in time to open it up for the day.

No, if asked she'd insist that it had been cold, and her cat had insisted on snuggling, and who was she to say no to that, really?

[OOC: ( Read more... )