Stamped for Delivery (Violet Evergarden Insert/AU)

2. Grandma's Wisdom: The CH Postal Company

I sprinted frantically down a narrow, dimly-lit alley, desperate to outrun the relentless pursuers nipping at my heels. The walls of the passage, shrouded in shadows, were adorned with graffiti and peeling posters, testaments to the urban decay that prevailed.

Discarded refuse littered the ground, creating an obstacle course of crumpled papers, discarded food wrappers, and shattered glass. The nauseating stench of decay and rot filled the air, assaulting my senses and intensifying my urgency to escape.

Summoning every ounce of courage, I forged ahead, putting distance between myself and my relentless pursuers. As I approached the end of the alley, my heart pounding in my chest, I cautiously slowed my pace. Rounding a corner, I found solace in a narrow street engulfed by darkness, far removed from the chaos that had ensnared me moments ago. It offered a temporary haven, a respite from the dangers that threatened me at every turn.

Retreating further into the relative safety of the unfamiliar streets, my trembling fingers fumbled to open the battered briefcase I clutched. Within, precious few clothing options and tightly bound stacks of money were carefully stowed away. I rummaged through the contents until my fingers grazed the worn edges of a cherished possession- my notebook.

With a flicker of hope, I moistened my thumb with a quick lick, anticipation mounting as I flipped open the pages. My eyes scanned the meticulously inscribed entries until they landed upon the one I sought. There, in my distinctive scrawl, lay the address of the apartment I had secured, one that sat firmly at the brink of affordability.

Eagerly tracing the lines with my gaze, I absorbed every detail penned onto the weathered parchment. It held the promise of shelter, a modest refuge awaiting my arrival. It may have been the cheapest dwelling, but I didn't mind.

Struggling with the unfamiliarity of the foreign pronunciation, I clumsily murmured the address to myself, "10 Avenue des Fleurs... 0600..." The name seemed to whisper hints of the path I needed to seek- a pathway adorned with the delicate beauty of blooming floral arrangements.

Feeling a tinge of frustration at my linguistic ineptitude, I swiftly closed my notebook and stashed it back within the depths of my worn briefcase. Standing up, I surveyed my surroundings, a bustling pedestrian walkway teeming with life and vibrancy. Good, I think I lost them.

My gaze caught sight of the street signs, adorned with ornate ironwork and a touch of old-world charm. Engrossed in their conversations and enchanted by the captivating accordion melody, people engaged in animated exchanges, their joyful energy permeating the very essence of the street.

With newfound determination, I quickened my pace, eagerly exploring the vibrant tapestry of this street adorned with food stalls and scented bouquets. Every step I took infused me with a renewed sense of purpose, as if the captivating ambience breathed life into my weary soul. The lively rhythm of the accordion reverberated through my being, adding a joyful bounce to my gait as I embarked on my quest to locate the humble haven I sought.

Embracing the lively atmosphere that surrounded me, I ventured deeper into the bustling street, my eyes curiously scouring the storefronts in search of the apartment I yearned to call temporary home.

As I finally reached my destination, a sense of anticipation coursed through me, mingling with the awe that the sight of the unassuming apartment evoked. The entrance exuded an air of age and history, its weathered door standing as a testament to the many stories it had witnessed over time. Grateful that the arduous paperwork had been taken care of beforehand, I pushed the weighty door open and ascended the creaking stairs.

The dusty railing revealed the silent passage of countless hands, inviting me to trail my fingers along its forgotten memories.

"0600," I repeated the address like a sacred incantation, determined to etch it firmly into my memory. With each passing room, I felt a sense of excitement swell within me, knowing that I was drawing closer to the sanctuary I had sought. And then, at last, there it was- 0600.