The Angel On The Stoop
With the ringing of the bell I was on my feet, and by a brace of pattering I was at the door.
At my command, it opened.
Before me was a drone, perfectly centered within the frame, hovering in wait above its payload. Clasped in each imitation claw was a string, and as my arrival processed within its circuits, it rose in turn, and disappeared. The strings were liberated as its grip achieved critical mass. If they had been shaped into anything resembling a bow, the sight had been lost on me. Surprise had kept my eyes glued to the mechanical marvel across every critical moment, and as such, any initial evidence as to its sender was lost.
