There Is A Time For Bills

I ran out to the mailbox. It was -35 with the wind, so I didn’t want to be out there very long. I put the key in the lock, turned it, and opened the door. I didn’t even look inside. I just thrust my hand in and grabbed everything.

Minus 35 is cold. Wind or not.

As I raced back to the house, I glanced at what was in the pile. Bills. A letter about tax rece…