Dear Royal Mail...

... was it really necessary that I had to receive an e-mail from one very lovely reader, who, after patiently waiting for Lulu to deliver one little book to me, so that I could sign it and send it to her, has now been waiting for three weeks for said little book, which I have sent on the 15th of July at 14.46 from my local post office after paying for recorded delivery; so lovingly and securely wrapped, after I signed my name and wrote a personal note, with a --  special for those occasions -- received as present, fountain pen, telling me that the item still hasn't arrive yet?
The book I'm talking about is the paperback version of my short stories, the one with the iguana in a sock on the cover, the one that got excellent reviews, which prompted the previously mentioned wonderful reader to write me an e-mail to ask if there would be a possibility to order the physical version, so that she could enjoy it on the couch, maybe smile about the signature and personal note first, before leafing through the pages in anticipation of an amusing evening.
Now, Royal Mail, I would like to know why you would want to deny the lady that very event, who, after having had such a bad experience, would probably, due to the trouble getting her hands on a copy, which she certainly less expected than the item itself, have difficulties to be excited should it eventually arrive.

Why, Royal Mail, do you have to lose this one letter I post in a year, forcing me to give up very precious time to fill in a complaint form that would make any other person with little time more than nervous, to claim back the money I've spent, not only one book, but also on postage, which, quite frankly, I find outrageous, wondering why the recorded delivery delivers a recording that doesn't deliver.

I, dear, Royal Mail, am not amused.

If you ever find that lost letter, you know where to send it to.

Yours (un)faithfully,

Stella Deleuze