He knew the neighborhood well. He studied the comings and goings of the people who lived in the houses in a four square block area. He observed their habits, memorized their routines. He was aware of the working couples who were gone during the day. He knew when the mothers took their kids to school in the mornings and picked them up in the afternoons. He knew when the old retired couples would be out taking their dogs for walks. He was a patient man. He watched and waited.
And then he’d see the USPS trucks, the UPS trucks, the FedEx trucks, and the Amazon trucks pull up in front of the houses in the neighborhood. He’d watch the drivers hop out of their trucks, go to the front doors, ring the doorbells, and when no one answered, leave the packages on the front porches or just outside of the doors.
And when the delivery trucks pulled away, he would casually walk up to the houses, looking as if he belonged. He would step up to the front door or onto the porch. He would pick up and walk off with the just delivered packages, the new arrivals.
He was the porch pirate. He was good at his job.
Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt, where the assignment is to write a post about New Arrivals.