Write-In 2019: 'The Delivery' by Summer Phillips

Yes, the order was for sixteen, that’s correct. It’s very encouraging to know your company employs this high level of customer service.

I’m sorry?

No, I was not informed. The text message said they’d be delivered between 3-7pm.

I’m not thrilled but I guess they’ll be alright until I get home.

What do you mean you don’t trust leaving them there? I can assure you I live in a very discerning neighbourhood.

Well you’ve delivered them. I would say that’s your responsibility.

I did not.

I can assure you it’s not my signature.

I’d like to take your name. Robert? Well young man, I did not sign off your order and if it’s Janice’s signature from nextdoor that you’ve procured, then it’s not worth the paper it’s written on. Janice and I haven’t spoken for twenty years and I shan’t acknowledge such an underhand collaboration.

I don’t rightly care about your paperwork.

They’d better not be.

What’s that noise?

What do you mean they’re alive? They’re vegetables.

No, I am not being offensive.

Now look here. I am coming towards the end of an afternoon date and it transpired well, never mind that the pie at lunch was somewhat deflated, at our age we can’t be fussy.

Do you think I’m concerned that you haven’t got the time to listen to my life story?

Listen to me Robert, I ordered my vegetables from you in good faith. You have delivered them early and they shall have to wait until I am home. It’s very likely they won’t go anywhere.

What’s that smashing noise?

What vegetables?

Well, the okra’s, of course. Very difficult to get hold of in my rural village here.

Okras, that’s right. O-K-R-A-S

O-G-R-E-S. No my dear Robert. Okra is not spelt...

Robert?

Robert?