Junk Mail
He pulls the mail from the letterbox, the water bill and a flyer from the local café advertising its new evening menu. Flipping over the menu it makes him think not that long ago, he was sifting through the folded fistful of junk mail, the catalogues of supposed opportunity and half-price sales, before dumping them in the recycling bin. Sifting glossy sheets of paper, unaware he sifts through family relationships and friendships in the same way, never cognisant of the methodology of how thoughts turn into actions because love had never been more than a singular noun to him. It never achieved metamorphosis into a verb to permeate each thought and action of his life to bring richness to the catalogue template of his discardable world.
A Fullness in Brevity - Adam Byatt 