The sound of the doorbell was almost a soothing balm to the newly shattered heart.
Emily Author crushed the crisp paper in her fist and tossed it on the floor in disgust. Standing, she strolled to the front door in half a daze. She was surprised to see the postman standing there with a tiny package in his hands. The postman?!
Her brow creased in confusion. “You’re not the usual mail lady? Where is Mrs. Triple R?”
The young postman’s eyes twinkled with merriment. “Is that what she told you to call her?”
A smile flickered across Emily’s face. “Well, not exactly. I made it up myself and it slipped out one time when she came by. She liked it so much that I haven’t called her anything else since.” Her brows pulled down. “Is she okay?”
The no-name postman grinned. “Oh, she’s alright. She got chased by a rooster, tripped over a root, and sprained her ankle. So she’s laid up for the next couple days. But she said to tell you hi for her.”
“Oh, poor dear! But then who are you? What’s your name?”
“I’m her son. Ryan Rollings. Just call me Mr. Double R.”
* I found this beginning of a story in my drafts and thought I would post it even though it is clearly unfinished. Anyone want to comment and add to the story where I left off or wherever the last commenter left off?
Hannah Foster 
I squinted. There was a resemblance between him and his mother, although it was faint. He had her same sparkling green eyes.
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NIce! Love it! ❤
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He gave a subtle tip of his head toward the package I still had not offered to accept. Taking his hint and the package, I glanced at the label. I hadn’t ordered anything from a publishing company, had I?
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Oh, I like where this is going.
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