Messengering

While in the herald,
my mind and body is unstopingly forced into indulging with the fear.
The lobby security is an old worn out type.

The other messenger hands him a box.
The messenger's metal business case crashes down on the counter.
The security jumps out of his long gordon New England Skin.
He then laughs when he realises.
The messenger smiles and says 'ha ha, boobytrap'.
Everything goes sky high like a fuckin' rocket.