Ah, the Kenyon Post Office. A place of love, loss, and lust. The place you go only when you think your eccentric-yet-wealthy aunt has sent you money, or to face the disappointment of knowing that the United States Postal Service will soon be obsolete due to the rapid technological advancements of modern society. But mostly it’s a place where you go to think: who the frick shares my P.O. Box, dude?

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