There isn’t much to say about this, beyond the fact that I was stomping gaily along the road yesterday when my eye was caught by a postbox. Without knowing why, I stopped and stared at it, and thought, ‘I love you. I love that in an age when we can even make babies over the Internet you are still here, dumpy, stumpy and defiant. I love your squat flaky redness and your persistent refusal to increase the size of your letter slot. Thank you for being here, you stubborn piece of British design.’
I took a photo of him, gave him a hug and went on my way.