The man in front of the counter had forms scattered in front of him and he was furious. The postal worker apologized and said there was nothing she could do until the mail carrier showed up on Monday and she could ask him about the situation.
His face flamed red and he began to yell. The postal employee remained calm, her face as blank as an empty chalkboard. He roared louder. She said nothing further. His tirade was a wildfire confronting a mountain of granite.
He whirled and sputtered, then began to fizzle and smoke as she just sat there, impervious to the now diminishing blaze. Finally he gathered his papers and went out, allowing the post office to fall back into the quiet of a Saturday afternoon.
"Next" said the mountain, smiling at me.