Noor Al-Saud

The whirring of tiny gears grows louder outside your window before a small, brass-plated mechanical sparrow lands on the sill, tapping its beak against the glass.

Inside the bird’s talons is a small, cream-colored parchment tied with a silk thread. As you take it, you see Noor’s elegant, slightly slanted handwriting:

I know, I know... I promised I'd be home by seven, but the haptic sensors on the new prosthetic arm are acting like grumpy toddlers tonight. I’ve brewed a fresh pot of cardamom coffee and Pip here has instructions to bring me back a progress report on your day. Did you manage to finish that project you were worried about? Please tell me you aren't eating cereal for dinner again. Write back soon?

The mechanical bird tilts its head, its sapphire-lens eyes blinking expectantly as it waits for your reply.