The Delivery Man Tv Series の小説・ストーリー

he asked, his voice deceptively light. "And why are you so concerned about that?" The security guard turned, eyeing him suspiciously. The delivery man forced another smile. "Just curious." "Sorry, but I’m not sure where they went," the guard replied. For a moment, the delivery man studied him, then gave a slow nod. "I see. Well, I’ll just come back another time." Without another word, he turned and walked back to his car, not giving the guard a chance to say anything else.

_____ Episode 24 – Morning Delivery The 8:15 AM delivery was the only thing that got me out of bed on Mondays. It was a pathetic little ritual, born from a subscription to a local artisan bakery that promised “life-changing sourdough.” The bread was fine. The view was better. His name was Kelvin, according to the blurry photo on the delivery app. In person, he was definitely more. Six-foot-something of lean muscle packed into a company polo shirt that strained across his shoulders. Dark, tousled hair that looked like he’d just run his hands through it, and eyes the color of strong coffee. He had a smile that was equal parts friendly and knowing, a dimple punctuating his left cheek.

Derek⁠ sai⁠d calmly. ​ T​he m‌an swallowe⁠d hard. “I told​​ you… I d​on’t kno‌w an‌‍y​th‍ing,” h‍e‌ sta​mm​ere⁠d.​ “I’⁠‌m‍ just a deli⁠⁠very m‍⁠an. S‍omeone dropp​ed it at the off‌ice. Paid me to br‍i⁠ng it here. That’s all.”

A rather displeased man is standing there and questions him. “This is the Weston estate. State your business.” He bellowed, looking at the gentleman in front of him being rained upon. “I’m here to deliver this envelope. It’s assigned to Mr. George Weston and must be hand-delivered and signed for.” The delivery man said quickly, holding a large brown envelope while getting drenched by the rain. “All deliveries are to be handed to me to be delivered; just hand it over.” He didn’t smile or was courteous in the least and began to grab for the large brown envelope in the delivery guy’s hands.

he greeted. “Good day,” I nodded. “How may i help you?“ I asked, my brows furrowed in corncern. “I have a delivery for this address,” the man said. “From who?“ I asked. “Uhm, That's not my job Ma'am,” he said. “What's not your job?“ I asked confused. “I am only a delivery man, I Can't tell you who sent it, but it should be stated in the card, i don't know,” He shrugged, and i nodded. Feeling a bit dumb because how did i forget?

The delivery man stammered, "I... I have a package for you, ma'am." Nishitha snatched it from his hands. "Well, you've delivered it. You can go now." She turned to close the door, but the man stopped her. "Wait, I was hoping we could... get to know each other better." Nishitha laughed, a harsh sound. "I don't think so, sweetheart. Now scram before I call security." She slammed the door in his face, not bothering to see the look of humiliation on his face. Little did she know, that delivery man was the key to her downfall.

Eliza asked as she covered the pot “of course it has to be him. He's the only one that could visit” I said and ran to the living room. I stood in front of the door, heaved a deep sigh and tried to look calm. I opened the door and the smile I planned to smile just turned into a frown “hello Miss, are you Marigold?” the man who was obviously a delivery man asked “yes I am” I answered “I have a package for you” he said and lifted the big white bag he has been holding

But there was a tangy smell in the air, and it was colder than usual. "Mar'ah," there was a gruff, masculine voice to her right, and Tina's heart leaped out of her skin. "You scared me," Tina told the delivery guy. He was standing beside the door to the breakroom, clutching a packet of documents in his hand. He was wearing an orange cap and a black jacket that had seen better days. She faced him, annoyed, "Look, Mister. I was kind of in an important brunch with a friend. So, I'd appreciate it if you guys could make it on time for the next one, okay? Here, give it to me."

She stand-up when 5 minutes passed, but before she open the door of the comfort room, she heard a bell and a call at someone outside of her house, when she open the door she saw delivery man. “Ma’am delivery for Ms. Ashel Damo?” The delivery man questioned to her. “It’s me, why?” She asks, because she can’t remember ordering anything. “Ma’am we had a delivery for you from Mr. Thomas Grey, please sign here ma’am.” The delivery man handed her the receipt book for her to sign.