Greg, The Mail Man

 Walking out of the gate with his mailbag, he started down the lonesome street, humming a popular song he had heard on radio.

He squinted ahead at the sun which smiled at him while he went about his day. The smell of flowers and wet treats hit his nose bringing back a feeling he did not want to feel.

It made him remember his past when he would wake up in his family mansion to head for the gardens. He would pluck the flowers there, taking each one to his nose to see which one smelled better.

He always loved the hibiscus flower and staring at the flowers which lined up the path hit him smiling.

He was on his way to work as he worked as a mailman. He delivered mail to the people who lived around the estate. 

The events of the birthday party hit him, scaring him as he knew people would talk about him for weeks to come. He had no choice but to continue with his job.

Getting into the office, he greeted the other workers, taking up the letters which had been allocated to him.

While walking towards the street, delivering the mail according to the numbers, his stomach grumbled.

"Oh dear," he sighed without stopping for a break. He had to be done with the batch in his bag before he would take that break he needed.

He could remember the events of the morning quite well as it had happened not up to an hour ago.

He had gotten into the kitchen after his bath only for the chefs to not serve him anything.

"Why would see say that?" he had asked wanting to know the reason for why he was being starved.

"She said it was because you had ruined Damien's name in the public eyes and you would have to pay somehow," the chef on the duty hissed out, stirring the eggs for the family.

"But I already did my bit. I even apologized."

He had been angry that even after the embarrassment he had undergone and the cold treatment he had gotten from his wife, he was still being treated like trash.

How was he supposed to work without food? But that was the least of his problems.

"Can you keep something for me by dinner time?" he had asked the chef who shook his head.

"I can't do that as well, Sir."

"You need to ask her for permission too before you give me food?"

"Not that sir."

"Then what is it? Why won't you give me dinner?"

"You see, she also said that we should not give you anything for the entire week as that was your punishment for embarrassing Damien."

"An entire week! You have to be shitting me. What am I going to eat for an entire week then?"

While talking with the chef, Evan had entered the kitchen to take some pickles from the pickle jar, winking at Greg before leaving.

Knowing there was nothing he could do, he decided to head out to work on an empty stomach. The week was going to be a long one.

***

His stomach rumbled again after he had delivered some mails to the houses they were meant for. His day had barely began and he was having a tough one all because he had not taken breakfast.

He started to regret why he had defended himself from Damien during the party. He was suffering because of that. It had been the right thing to do, but not everyone had the same mindset he had about that.

The sun started to get hotter as he glanced at his watch.

"One sixteen," he mumbled under his breath.

Getting close to a mailbox, he started to go through his bag, taking out the mail from it.

"Hey!" he heard someone call out to him as he stared ahead to see a woman in a bathing robe calling for him. "Bring the mail over here. Don't drop it in there!"

"Alright ma'am," he mumbled, trying to save energy as he approached the woman.

The closer he got to the woman, the faster his heart started to beat as he soon recognized the woman from the party. She had been one of Damien's friends who had spilled drink and food onto the ground.

Greg wanted so badly to hit her with anything hard as he was suffering because of her as well. Folding his fists with the letter in them, he smiled at the woman while handing it to her.

"Thank you," she said with a smile, taking her letter before doing a double take at her mailman's face. "I know you."

Greg shook his head, about to leave as the woman stepped out of her porch with the coffee in her hand, standing between him and the driveway.

"You're that guy who cleaned the floor last night at the party," she laughed in a mocking way. "Oh my God! You were so stupid and dumb to think you could talk the way you did last night and get away with it. You're not in our league!"

"Ma'am, I have mails to deliver. Have a nice day."

But the woman wasn't having it. For immediately Greg tried to pass by, the woman tossed her drink onto his uniform.

"Ma'am! What the hell?!" Greg yelled, getting his bag out of the way to avoid the coffee from staining the letters in his bag.

"Oops," she gasped dramatically, putting a hand over her mouth. "That was a mistake."

He stared at her, his eyes brimming with so much rage. He wished he could grab her by the neck and get rid of her. At least, that would be one less trash for the planet.

He despised rich people like her so much. He wished he could make every single person like her, which was making his life a living hell, pay. 

He deserved better and he wanted better. But with these people on the planet, he knew they would always try to step over him.