He was in his truck, he was out of his truck. He was in his truck, he was out of his truck.
On a recent walk in the neighborhood, I couldn’t help but notice my mailman’s pattern of work. He was in-and-out of his truck many times to bring packages up to my neighbors’ front doors.
“Lot of packages, eh?” I asked walking passed him.
“More and more,” he said, starting up the mail truck again and driving off.
A few houses up the street, he was out of his truck again as I again walked passed.
“It’s going to be a long day, eh?” I commented.
“Tis the season,” he said. “It will be like this till the…