Delivery

Joining H. T. Darrow’s July challenge - Day 12-17 + July Write Together prompt

I was pretty happy with how I was going with this challenge, so of course it all unravelled quite quickly. So, I’m here to try catch up and found inspiration in the July Write Together prompt from Stop Writing Alone.

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Spending hour upon hour carting around delicious cheesy, bready goodness had seemed like a dream job. Cheap pizza after a shift was the icing on the cake (or cheese on the pizza, I suppose). Turns out, you soon end up scrunching your nose up at the smell.

What was once a comforting scent has now permeated through his car, apartment and clothing. An oily, unpleasantness that can’t be scrubbed out no matter how hard he tries. The mere idea of eating another slice churns his stomach.

Kitt rubbed his hand down his tired face. It had been a long shift, it was late and he needed to eat but he’d forgotten to grab the groceries on the way home. Again.

Discarding his uniform on the bedroom floor, he wished he’d never taken the pizza delivery job– now, the easiest dinner option was ruined and he just wanted to chill.

Scrolling through the options, he settled for a chip and chicken pack from the place downtown. Hitting order, he sat back on his couch, a foot resting on his opposite knee, pulled his worn quilt up to his waist and sighed. Going back to his phone, he flicked between apps as the gnawing in his stomach increased.

Why does everything non-pizza take so damn long? He wondered to himself, swiping left without really looking.

The ticking of the clock above his fridge got louder and louder as it marked the minutes. 24, 25, 26, it counted.

Checking the app he watched the little cartoon car turn onto his street. Getting up, he stretched his arms above his head and made his way to stand by the door, tapping his food to the beat of the clock.

A tire screech, car door opening and abrupt loud music assaulted him as heavy footsteps clomped in his direction. It’s always the longest bit of getting take away– the waiting from the delivery driver pulling up to them knocking. Time manages to stretch and slow the closer you get to eating.

He held his breath, he would hate for the person about to deliver his food to know he was here, waiting, in this apartment where he ordered said food to.

The footfalls eased, there was a moment of shuffling before a confident knock made him jump. Every single time, he thought to himself, rolling his eyes. Tapping his foot again, he waited a beat before moving to turn the handle, pretending he hadn’t been waiting right there.

He knew when he delivered pizza that this was so often what people did and yet it didn’t stop him from the same strange dance.

Opening the door in a practiced nonchalant, I’m-definately-not-starving and a super chill dude kind of way, he froze. Smile still plastered on his face.

“Hey, mate!” The man at his door greeted him, eyes down while he checked he had the right address and meal. Looking up, he tilted his head and blinked.

Kitt squinted his eyes, as if that might help, tilted his head and opened his mouth but nothing came out as he stared at himself, standing in his entrance half holding a paper bag out towards him.

“Ah…” The guy said, looking around confused.

Kitt gave his head a quick, determined shake and looked out at the car parked unceremoniously in his clover patch. Annoyance made his jaw twitch and he pursed his lips, not a single purple iris was still standing, each delicate flower bent and crushed.

The Kitt look-a-like rubbed a hand down his face and glanced back nervously.

Sighing, Kitt opened his mouth again but he was beat to it, “I know, for the bees, sorry.” rushed out of his mouth.

His eyes traveled up to the small beat up white Toyota. Exactly like his, right down to the single reindeer antler still sitting above passenger door. “It’s freaking July,” he whispered to himself– just as he has everyday this month, meaning to remove it.

“I know, sorry, I keep meaning to take it off and then I just don’t…” Not-Kit rambled, green eyes wide and confused. “I guess I should give you your food?”

Kitt blinked, and looked out at the newly out stretched hand holding his order, having totally forgotten about it.

“I mean, I guess so,” His eyebrows drew together as he tried to figure out how he was looking at, and talking to, himself.

The mannerisms, the voice, the almost too long stubble on his face and the ear length beachy hair with sun bleached streaks. It was all him, except for the lack of pizza uniform.

“Yeah, look, maybe I just need to eat,” He mumbled, reaching out and taking the bag.

“Probably. I guess.”

Neither moved for what seemed like an eternity, both lost in confusion and what should have been thoughts but the reality of seeing yourself in another body had short circuited both their brains.

“Alright,” Kitt started as the other said, “See ya, mate.”

Both gave an awkward wave as the door swung and clicked shut between them.

For a moment, Kitt just stood, stuck in some strange void. He looked around and thought about how strange everything felt now. His, but not. Right but not quite.

The slam of a car door brought him back. His stomach growled.

“I suppose I should eat.” He muttered, sitting down. He rearranged his quilt, turned the TV on and tried to pretend it was just another Tuesday night.

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Incase you’re wondering the prompts from H. T. Darrow’s challenge I included (hopefully not too clunkily) were;

Day 12 - antler,
Day 13 - quilt,
Day 14 - wave,
Day 15 - sun,
Day 16 - clover and
Day 17 - iris