Paper Fortune

"The human brain is quite an odd thing," mumbled Kite. He smiled and flipped the fortune over. "Fear," he read, then failed to pronounce the Chinese phonetics. He slipped it into his pocket, making a mental note to tape it in his notebook before he threw his jeans in the wash. Kite always kept his fortunes, and he loved odd ones like this.

After heating up the car for about ten minutes, Kite slipped off his snow boots. He rarely drove with shoes on. He deemed shoes uncomfortable, and only wore them when at work. Most people didn't accept pizzas from a barefoot delivery boy. Especially not in the snow.

Kite sighed. The storm was really picking up. The weather woman had been warning about a blizzard all weekend. Kite hoped the current snow didn't gain any momentum. He had one more delivery today, and he wasn't sure how much his windshield wipers could handle. He slowly pulled out of the lot. His wipers groaned.

Around ten minutes later, his pickup truck wheezed into a customer's driveway. He buckled his snow boots back up, grabbed the pizza, and trudged up the unshoveled steps.

A strange series of vibes made him stop at the first stair. He thought of what could be lying inside. Any number of people, characters, personalities could have ordered this cheese pizza. He wondered why such a thought came into his head. He was usually a fairly simplistic fellow. But it was true, he figured. A serial killer could lie inside. His death could be on the other side of the door. Or, he thought, perhaps someone else's death. Maybe he would be walking into a murder scene. Maybe a body lied strewn across the front hall of this house. Maybe an attack dog waited inside. Maybe, maybe this would be the last pizza he ever delivered. Maybe…maybe…

Kite rang the doorbell. He had to put such thoughts to rest. A few moments passed. Was this some sort of a set up? Was this really what he had just been thinking? A cold sweat formed on the back of his neck. Dear God…

The doorknob clicked and opened painfully slow. A small figure, with the stature of an elderly woman appeared in the doorway. Kite handed her the pizza and ran away before she could pay him.

He backed out of the driveway frantically, with his boots still on. The human brain is quite an odd thing, he thought, and got onto route 11.

Something I wrote awhile ago and altered a bit. Should I continue?