[Survey] Public Surveys, Secret Letters

Public Surveys, Secret Letters

Once Lumi realized the shrill, rhythmic chirping of the bird in his bedroom was actually his second alarm, he woke up. The xero flapped the blankets aside and rolled out of bed, reaching for his tablet. "ROUTE #3 (Harbor Heights) TODAY." flashed the reminder across its screen." Lumi stashed the tablet in his pouch and continued getting ready for 'work.'

Mail-carrier's satchel? Check. Lumi slings it over one shoulder.

Tablet? Wait, where is it? Lumi pats himself down to check--oh, yes, already in his pouch. Right next to...The Envelope.

It would not do to leave for work without The Envelope.

~

It was a beautiful morning. It had rained just before dawn, so a little soggy, but the heat of the day had yet to evaporate the dewdrops off the tips of leaves. Lumi was transfixed by the crystals hanging in a shop window across the street from from the tram stop. They reflected rainbows of light over the paving stones, as if to make up for the lack of rainbows in the skies.

“Was that your tram?” a beaked alien nudges Lumi, who looked up from the spinner’s web was sparkling like a silver net only to see—

“Oh. Um. That’s—that was the blue tram wasn’t it? Yes. Yes that is my tram. Zooming away. Down the hill.” His ears and antennae drooped, more embarrassment than disappointment.

Lumi’s bus-stop companion clacked their long beak in sympathy. “Ah, well. At least the next one is in fifteen minutes?”

The xero retrieved an old-fashioned notebook & pen from his pouch to check “Only fifteen? I thought it was twenty…”

~

Once aboard the tram, Lumi flipped to a clean page in the little journal to jot down some observations. Despite the gloom, it was a bright and lovely morning, the kind that could be all the more lovely when shared with you…

He frowned and crossed it out.

Lost in your eyes….

Crossed out again.

“Well. Maybe it doesn’t have to be a poem,” Lumi huffed, tearing out the page, folding it up, and stuffing it in his pouch. He didn’t make a habit of keeping trash or junk in there, but neither did Lumi want to leave cheesy love poetry in a public wastebasket.

 “I don’t have to finish it today,” Lumi reassured himself. He hadn’t even delivered The Envelope yet.

~

Upon arrival at the Harbor Regional Mail Sorting Depot, it didn’t even come up that Lumi had arrived 40 minutes late.

“Ah, you’re finally here!” boomed Supervisor. Supervisor, a hexapod with a long face and thick white fluffy fur, dropped a stack of folded pamphlets thick as a fantasy novel omnibus onto the table. The resulting THUMP was loud enough to startle Lumi and shift the table.

“I- ah. What are these?” Lumi reach­ed forward to take one, antenna curling forward with obvious curiosity. Across the top was written, “ARC SURVEY”

“We sent out the first version electronically, but your ambassador—Ziggy was it?—suggested hand-delivering the survey to xeros who hadn’t responded yet. Sure, it will take longer to RECORD the data, but that personal touch really does matter to some of us in AREZ. Ready to do your part, Lumi?”

Lumi brandished his pen. “Yesser.”

Supervisor laughed. “No, to deliver them!”

~

It was late in the afternoon, even later than usual, by the time Lumi finished delivering his portion of the ARC Survey pamphlets. A surprisingly large number of xeros had completely missed the first electronic survey, while an unsurprisingly large number of xeros had questions or needed explanations or wanted to try and dictate the answers to Lumi themselves! Combine that with Lumi’s friends who lived in these neighborhoods or those who wanted to just update the mailxero about their day…all right, maybe it was closer to sunset by the time Lumi was reaching for the last survey in his satchel. And just in time…

“So if I leave it in the mailbox, you’ll be back to pick it up?” The xero speaking was tall, with cream-colored fur but dark, full, eyes. Their voice lilted upwards at the end of the question.

“Absolutely!” The words rushed out of the mail-xero, then, hastily added or corrected, “That is to say, um, it COULD be me receiving your mail. I could. Probably. Arrange for a personal pick-up.”

The Hollow softly chuckled. “That’s sweet of you to offer.” They tucked the survey away into their pouch to answer later, no less dexterous for the enlarged claws on the tips of their digits. “But only if it’s no hassle...”

Lumi was, once again, acutely aware of The Undelivered Envelope tucked away in his pouch.

Perhaps one day he’d feel comfortable delivering love letters and confessions, not just writing them.

“N-no hassle at all. Promise.” His eyes were wide and earnest.

Perhaps, one day, soon?