The old man opened the door.
I’ve a parcel for you, said the post lady.
Oh fantastic, said the man in a high, wheezy voice: It’s from my son. He’s away in Australia. Married. I have two granddaughters.
Can you sign here, asked the post lady. Here, I’ve a pen.
The old man signed: You’ve made my day, he said.
The post lady took the pen, nodded and headed back to the rusty gate and the road of little houses.
In his living room, sat in his chair, the man unpacked his parcel slowly – and began to sob.