He licks the stamp, sex in his eyes. I turn away, backpack and everything. I am ready to leave, to face the street, woman about downtown once again. Sure, it will be dark soon. The post office will close its doors, the clerks will go home, cook plums to soften their children’s stomachs, change the bedroom linens in anticipation of the night to come. They will leave, and I will have missed my deadline. Still, I am willing.