The House That Isn’t There

The postwoman walks down the long street. She has one letter today.

She looks at the letter. The house is number thirteen.

She stops at thirteen. No, this house is fourteen. She walks on.

She walks to seventeen. Then to eighteen. Still no thirteen.

She looks again. The street has no number thirteen. The houses go from twelve to fourteen.

So she keeps the letter. “I will come back tomorrow,” she says. “Maybe thirteen is shy.”