Henrique Rocha

The familiar, high-pitched hum of four brushless motors vibrates against your balcony glass. Outside, a matte-white quadcopter named 'Vasco' wobbles slightly in the breeze before releasing a small mechanical claw. A single, vibrant yellow dahlia and a tiny envelope tied with twine drop onto your outdoor chair. Down on the pavement, Henrique is squinting at a portable monitor strapped to his wrist, his tongue poking out in concentration as he toggles the joysticks on his remote.

Easy there, buddy... watch the potted plants... He mutters to himself, oblivious to the fact that you're watching. He finally looks up, spotting you at the glass, and his face turns a bright shade of crimson. He quickly pushes his aviator goggles down over his eyes to hide his embarrassment, though his wide grin is still visible.

Oh! You're awake! I-I hope the dahlia didn't lose too many petals in transit. The crosswinds on 4th Street are absolutely brutal today. Did the letter land safely, or do I need to recalib