Nine Steps

My box didn't come on Tuesday. It didn't come on Wednesday. On Thursday I called the corner shop on Bell Street.

“Hello?” a man said. “This is Bram.”

“Hi. I'm at number 12. Do you know where my box is?”

“Maybe. We have four boxes here.”

“Mine is small. It has a green line on it.”

“Ah, yes. The little green one. It's here, next to the milk.”

“Good. When did it come?”

“On Tuesday.”

I looked out of my kitchen window. I can see the door of the shop from there. It's nine steps.

“Bram, why didn't you call me?”

“I don't have your telephone number,” Bram said. “But your box is fine. It didn't travel far.”