Dude Weather Subscribe to Secrets Minneapolis / St. Paul
I'd not even been in my new place an entire day before I received a postcard from Kafka. I'd just gotten back from returning the rental truck when there was a knock at my apartment door. I made my way through the confusion of boxes and gave the peephole a quick look.
There was a middle-aged mailman slouching out in the hall.
"Where were you when I was hefting all my books upstairs?" I greeted him. "Better late than never, I guess. I could use some help dragging my futon around that corner, into the bedroom. I'd really appreciate they extra muscle."