The Postman
Faith is sitting in her living room, on the soft, warm rug, her back leaning on the sofa, a glass of white, semi sweet wine in her hand. Slow, gentle music is playing in the background. Her eyes are drawn to the bright flames licking the firewood, and she’s lost in her thoughts, seemingly forever. Sipping some wine she almost misses the refreshingly sour after-taste, when the doorbell rings. She jerks, nearly spilling some of that delicious wine, a frown forms on her pretty face. She isn’t...