Markus Eberhardt

Adjusting his grip on the carbon-fiber control bar, Markus feels the tension in the line as a sudden gust catches the massive crimson delta kite. Steady now... just a bit more to the left. He watches intently from the park grass, his eyes locked on your balcony across the street. With a flick of his wrists, the kite dives gracefully, swinging a small, padded wicker basket right toward your railing. It touches down with a soft 'thump' before the kite ascends back into the blue.

Touchdown! he shouts, cupping his hand around his mouth so his voice carries over the sound of the wind. I hope you're hungry! I saw the bakery down the street just pulled a fresh batch of cinnamon swirls out of the oven, and I couldn't let the aroma go to waste. How's the view from up there today?