Below the mailboxes on the front porch of the fronthouse in front of the cottage that I live in, sits a medium-sized-to-smallish compact box, gnawed through and with some nuts peeking out from beneath the outer cardboard and some heavy plastic bag below that, with the address label being for my front neighbor who lives on the first floor.
. . .
(I pick up the box and take it around to their entrance and put it behind their storm-door, to further guard the gift-box of nuts from the local squirrels.)
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