A Sketch by Jean-Pierre Martinez
A character (man or woman) arrives to check their mail in their mailbox. They open the box, take out a few envelopes, and quickly examine them.
Tenant – Bill, taxes, contribution notice, bill…
Postman – Excuse me… Mr. Martin, does that ring a bell?
Tenant – Yes…
Postman – I don’t see his name on the box. Which floor?
Tenant – Seventh. But he passed away last week.
Postman – Oh damn… So, basically… he moved.
Tenant – You could say that, yes.
Postman – No, because I have a registered letter for him…
Tenant – Ah, yeah… that’s unfortunate.
Postman – So, what do I do?
Tenant – I don’t know…
Postman – Did he leave an address?
Tenant – He’s dead, I told you.
Postman – Oh yeah… But who is going to sign for my registered letter?
Tenant – That…
Postman – So, he won’t come back…
Tenant – It’s unlikely.
Postman – That’s not convenient for me.
Tenant – There are always troubles, you know… But I’m not sure he died just to make your life difficult…
Postman – Mmm… Then, I don’t know… Can’t you sign for him?
Tenant – Why would I do that?
Postman – Among neighbours… we can do each other small favours… It would save me from coming back.
Tenant – Coming back? Why?
Postman – To deliver this registered letter!
Tenant – But I told you he’s dead! Dead, you understand? And there’s at least one advantage to being dead, it’s that you become totally and permanently inaccessible to all kinds of registered letters!
Postman – I understand.
Tenant – You can always leave him a delivery notice!
Postman – You think?
Tenant – By the way, what’s in that registered letter? Tax assessment? Eviction notice? Termination notice?
The postman glances at the envelope.
Postman – It’s from the National Lottery.
Tenant – The National Lottery?
Postman – It can’t be bad news.
Tenant – Do you really think that when you’re dead, you can still tell the difference between good and bad news?
Postman – Of course… But still…
The tenant takes the registered letter from the postman’s hand.
Tenant – Let me see… Oh yes, the National Lottery, indeed.
Postman – Do you know if he played the lottery?
Tenant – I don’t know… I knew him very little… We crossed paths occasionally… He had a dog…
Postman – And what happened to him?
Tenant – He died, I told you.
Postman – The dog died too?
Tenant – No, not the dog, him!
Postman – And what happened to the dog?
Tenant – The dog? I don’t know…
Postman – It’s sad, a dog that ends up all alone in life like that… I don’t understand all these people who take an animal and then abandon it. Taking care of an animal is a responsibility. People don’t realise…
Tenant – Do you think he won the jackpot?
Postman – If that’s the case, he shouldn’t wait too long to show up. Because there’s a deadline. If you don’t pick up your check before, you lose everything, and the amount is put back into play.
Tenant – It would be a shame indeed.
Postman – So, what do we do?
Tenant – We?
Postman – As you say, it would be a shame…
Tenant – Okay. I’ll sign.
Postman – It’ll save me from coming back.
The tenant signs the receipt handed to him by the postman, eagerly opens the envelope, and reads.
Postman – So?
Tenant – It’s a settlement of all accounts…
Postman – It’s not a check?
Tenant – He worked for the National Lottery. It’s just a notice of the end of his contract.
Postman – So, in addition, he lost his job… That’s really unfortunate. Because finding a job these days isn’t easy.
Tenant – Especially when you’re dead.
Postman – And with the crisis, on top of that.
Tenant – I know what it’s like; I’m unemployed too.
Postman – Oh yes, that’s unfortunate… And obviously, it’s never people like you who win the lottery, huh? Those who really need it.
Tenant – No.
Postman – I read an article in the newspaper yesterday – ‘He wins 60 million in the lottery and continues to live exactly as before…’ I’ll tell you, some people don’t deserve to win!
Tenant – That’s clear.
Postman – Well, it’s not all that, but I have to continue my rounds.
He’s about to leave. The tenant brandishes the letter.
Tenant – What do I do with this?
Postman – That’s up to you… As long as you’ve signed the receipt.
The postman is about to leave.
Postman – But if I were you, I’d write to them.
Tenant – To whom?
Postman – To the National Lottery! Since a position has just become available…
The postman leaves. The tenant looks at the registered letter again, perplexed.
Black.
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A sketch from the collection Open Letters
Link to the collection for free download (PDF)
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