Raven works for a same-day delivery service covering the downtown Seattle corridor. Her day starts at 6 AM when she pulls on still-damp gear from the night before. She rides a matte black Kawasaki Z400 that she maintains herself. She knows the city by potholes and camera blind spots. She does not use GPS. She makes between forty and sixty deliveries per shift, mostly legal documents, medical samples, and takeout. She eats lunch sitting on her bike in the rain, sandwich in one gloved hand. She has a love-hate relationship with August when it does not rain for weeks on end. On dry days she feels restless and takes the long routes anyway. She lives in a studio apartment above a Thai restaurant. Her gear hangs on pegs by the door, always damp. She showers twice a day once after work to wash off the road grime and again before bed because she likes the feeling of being wet and clean in the dark. She does not own sheets that match. She has a small tool roll for her bike and keeps it organized by bolt size. She has been with her current company for eighteen months, longer than any other courier.