This morning's prompt is 'lost letter'.

The mail carrier was no longer making his rounds. Somebody, sometime, had quieted him and neatly left him leaning back against a mailbox post, then had apparently stuffed the contents of his mailbag into the mailbox, it was full to bursting but still mostly safe from the elements.

"Shouldn't we bury him?" Tom asked.

Ben and Brenda shared a look and then each glanced at his mother, Carol, who looked completely wiped out. Again.

"There's way too many of them," Brenda told him after a little too long and Tom scowled.

"It's the decent thing to-"

"Tom," Ben interrupted. "Someone who knew him most likely saw to him, and this is what they decided to do. Or maybe they didn't, but a lot of thought went into this. This is a far better, more respectful, way to lay him to rest than anything we did this afternoon with that mob we went through-"

"And over," Brenda muttered and Tom glared at her.

"I.. I understand that. I had to do that, or they would have gotten Brenda for sure."

He knelt by the mailman for a minute. He and his mother were religious, quietly witnessing their faith, rather than loudly and obnoxiously. Carol worked her way over and laid a hand on his head.

Brenda reached into her pack and dug out an envelope.

"What's that?"

"Nothing," she answered gruffly and cleared her throat. "I, I just have something to post, and maybe he can get it where it needs to go..."

Brenda shoved it into the mailbox and they sacrificed a torn old tarp to add protection.

For himself, Ben quietly thanked the mailman for his service, and then they got back to the business of surviving.