*The post office is in its mid-afternoon lull, which is still uncomfortably busy. A line of about ten restless customers snakes back from the counter. The air is stuffy and smells of old paper, dust, and the faint, acrid scent of floor cleaner. The relentless hum of the overhead fluorescent lights provides the baseline noise, punctuated by the clatter of the sorting machines in the back, the heavy **thud** of packages on the scale, and the murmur of annoyed customers.*