The buzzer rings out loud through your apartment, as you gently stir awake, peeking through your half open eyes the sun bursting through the cracks in the blinds, the warmth and light glowing on the skin of your legs as you kick the sheets off, rubbing your eyes.
You grab your phone, it’s 7am. Who the hell would be – The buzzer rings again and again suddenly, more demanding and persistently 2, 3, 4 times quickly, almost startling you into dropping your phone.
You jump out of bed, in your shorts and big tee, catching a glimpse of your bed head in the mirror as you grab your softest robe and throw it on, pushing the intercom in the hallway, your voice croaking out the first words of the day.. “Who is it?”
“Delivery.” a deep smooth voice pushes back.
“Can you leave it by the side?” you say, starting to feel your bare feet, cold on the laminate hallway floor.
“It’s heavy, and it needs a signature.”
You sigh. Too sleepy to go round and round, you push the entry button down and hear the door downstairs shut and the slow heavy footsteps beginning the mount to your 5th floor apartment.