One Word Prompts 2020

Bulky - Alcadia Wyvern Postal Service

It was a quiet morning in the Alcadia Wyvern Postal Service's Western branch office. Lylia slouched at the reception desk, her head on the counter, her hands idly scratching behind the brow ridge of a lesser wyvern. It cooed under the touch, stretching its scaled forearms out and yawning widely.

It had no complaints about being stationed at the smallest AWPS branch office and was quite content to spend the rest of the day being pet by bored AWPS workers. And if Lylia was going to be completely honest, she wasn't truly dissatisfied with spending the day petting the little flying lizard. But it was what she'd done yesterday and the day before.

Another wyvern, this one a pale green in sharp contrast to the burned yellow wyvern still under her fingers, landed on her shoulder to nibble at her hair for attention. She chuckled, sitting up a little to pet it instead. The yellow one on the counter chirped indignantly as she divided her attention away from it, raising its head and cracking open a single amber eye to determine what had distracted its human from her duty.

It looked like it was going to be another slow day. Which was fine. It meant there was plenty of time to clean the lesser wyvern cages and give all the greater wyverns a proper rub down.

Maybe she'd even look at rearranging the furniture in the reception room again. There was probably room to set up the hammock by the window so the sun hit an occupant just right in the afternoon. And the manager couldn't complain about her setting it up again if she took it down before he came in on Thursday. She just had to remember to put it away this time.

Sure, if she wanted, she could nap on the bench in the back room. That had been her most recent project, fixing it up to be comfy. One of the legs had broken and she'd had to get creative in finding an appropriately sized object to prop up that corner. And then she'd found a couple of nice cushions and a good blanket and it was good to go.

But the idea of napping in partial sun was especially alluring. Well worth the risk of being scolded for it later for sure.

But before she worked up the will power to stand and find where she'd hidden the hammock last time she'd been told to take it home or throw it away, the office doors swung open.

A pudgy man waddled in, a hesitant falter in his otherwise short but quick gait. She shooed the little wyverns from her desk as the man approached, frantically feeling around beneath the desk for her record book and pen.

"Excuse me," the man said.

She flashed him her customer service smile, hoping her uniform was passingly straight still. Hoping that her smile held as she realized she couldn't remember whether she'd remembered to put on her uniform today or not. It had been hot the past couple days so she'd been foregoing the prim and proper white blouse and green vest in favor of a more casual and far cooler tank top.

But she resisted the urge to look down and check. Instead, in her customer service voice, she asked, "How may we help you today, sir?"

"Erm, I have a package I need shipped to Grey Cliff. Would that be possible?" he asked in response.

"Grey Cliff?" she replied, still sweeping a hand through the cubby under the desk trying to find the records book. Her fingers brushed up against a book, but no, that one was the dime novel she'd brought to read last week. And that one was her sketchbook. There was the second half of a ham sandwich she'd brought as her breakfast. And there, a pen. Well, that was half of what she needed.

"Of course," she continued with barely a pause. If the record book wasn't in the desk, where had she put it? She was going to need it to record the customer's request and to document that she'd accepted his package and sent it off with a wyvern.