Letters

The envelope in the locked desk was supposed to be all full of dragon. I had it carefully (professionally) folded and packed. It was a little expensive, sure, but worth the cost. Those people are trained in things like that. They have contingency plans and insurance, and psychology behind them. They have good flat surfaces and bone folders. They have room for that sort of thing. If I had tried to fold it myself, it would have invariably come out lumpy and not fit in the envelope. Also, it would probably have gone poorly for the dragon.

So in the end it all fit in the envelope. Lined with bubble wrap, it was snug and secure. You could barely see the rise and fall of its sleeping breath through the manila and strapping. I knew that when I took it to the post office counter, I could deny with a straight face that there was anything liquid, hazardous, fragile, or perishable. It was just, well… heavy. But I was prepared for that. It’s why I paid extra for the packing. And hence the electric pallet jack and the borrowed 4×4.