The Postman

Saw the post had been delivered this morning, opened the door, and there was a thick pile of post on the mat.  But at the top, in a clear plastic wrapper, was a copy of a magazine I don't subscribe to.  Sure enough, it had been mis-delivered  In fact, of the five items in the pile, three were for other addresses, one for each of the three remaining houses in the cul-de-sac in which I live.  It was as if the postman had got as far down the row as my house and then gave up and dumped the remaining stuff through my letterbox.