Postal Trials Part 2

The trucks did return.

Eventually.

At four twelve in the afternoon, P-03 rumbled back through the depot gates. Its crimson paint was dusted with soot from the railway goods yard, but the engine was purring with steady, rhythmic confidence. Daniel Briggs climbed down from the cab, stretched his arms, and handed his delivery manifest to the depot clerk with a broad grin.

At five thirty-six, P-01 arrived. Its driver, Frederick Moss, looked somewhat weary from navigating the congested inner avenues, reporting minor difficulty maneuvering the wide vehicle through the narrow horse alleys behind the central municipal hall.

At six nineteen, P-02 crawled into the yard.

It was nearly forty minutes behind schedule.

The truck pulled up to the unloading bay, its engine coughing slightly as the ignition was cut.