Interconnected

"The postal pipe hugs the curb, rivulets of rain on it trembling every time a package flies along it. Here and there it forks, and a pipe splits off to serve a shop or another street. I'm crouching, and I'm sure the tail of my coat is getting soaked."

I've gone a little sci-fi in today's Upsideclown: Gifts, contracts, and whispers.