Nulla dies sine linea. Four sentences every day. About whatever happened that day. Most of it's even true. Written by Scott Lee Williams
"Mail for you," our roommate sings, tossing the envelopes on the table.
"For me?" I exclaim in mock-delight.
"Well, mostly for Katie."
"This one says 'New York Resident,' so that's me," picking up one of the envelopes and waving it at him.