Syna was glaring directly down on them now, meaning there was no escape from the heat anywhere. Calla chugged down some more water, emptying her first waterskin.Calla let water drip out of her mouth so she could feel the cooling sensation on her face and throat. She did, however, maneuver the package so that it wouldn’t get dripped onto. She was nothing if not a professional.
It was hard to enjoy your work as the sun beat down on you harder than ever before, but Calla tried. She thought about the alternatives. Homelessness to start. Not in Zeltiva, of course, but that was almost worse. She loved this city, and she would rather live a miserable life here than any other life somewhere else. Not having a job, or having a stationary job, was definitely worse. Calla would never be able to sit somewhere and work while her body rotted away. No, even in this obnoxious heat, this is what she was meant to be doing.
Pep talk over, Calla dragged her body to the end of Raster Street. The letter needed to go up two floors, but at least the stairs were interior ones. Calla popped into the building and stared at the steps before her. With how stacked this quarter was, Calla was surprised she didn’t have to do more of this today. Although, she was only halfway through. After these two deliveries, she would have time to slip back to Priskil’s Spire. Calla groaned at the thought of it.
Calla took the stairs one at a time, because a day like today was not a day to be ambitious. It felt like it took over a bell, but she eventually made it to the second floor. Sweat was pouring down Calla’s neck. She took a moment to compose herself before knocking on the door.
”Delivery for Mr. Pogrin.” Calla shifted her naked foot behind the other boot; anyone who put a prefix before their name deserved at least that much decency. Well, people like that all thought they deserved that kind of decency. Calla just knew there was money attached to that kind of attitude, and one bare foot meant that money was less likely to make it way to her.
”Hello.” Mr. Pogrin opened the door. He was dressed well--better than Calla, that was for sure. Even in the heat, he wore long sleeves and long tailored pants.
”I got a letter for you.” Calla handed over the paper. ”Promise I didn’t open it.” Calla joked. Mr. Pogrin took his letter with both hands and grinned. He didn’t respond for a moment, so Calla felt like she needed to clarify. ”Kidding. Some courier humor for ya.”
“That’s funny.” Usually, this was when the customer would shut the door. But he didn’t. Calla was obligated but some unspoken contract to wait until the door closed to move away, though. After a beat, the man finally spoke. ”Still sweltering out there?”
”Sure is.”
”Do you have plenty of water?” The man was quiet, shy almost. But he had a lingering underton of confidence that made it hard to determine whether he was nervous or simply pretending to be. What the petch? Calla officially did not like this interaction. She was usually laid back, but no normal person asked their delivery person this many questions.
”Sure do. Do you?” Calla took a step back, trying to hint that she needed to go.
”Yes, yes.” The man laughed lightly before looking down at the letter. ”Well, thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. Have a good one.” Calla started to walk away as the man shut the door.
Right before the door shut, the man responded: ”You too. Stay cold out there!” Calla was already hustling down the stairs. She was tired, but there was nothing like a creep to put some pep in her step. Calla booked it down the stairs and back out into the street.
Now she felt like running. She jogged her way through the thinning crowd. She had to zig-zag around people, bumping into them often. Running through crowds was actually less like running and more like jumping. People were never aware of their surroundings when out and about, so they’d frequently step into Calla’s path without looking around. When that happened, Calla had to quickly hop to the side and then back on track. It annoyed the shyke out of others and her alike, but Calla really, really wanted to get out of this quarter.
Her last delivery was at the far end of the Denvali Quarter--naturally. At this point, though, she was glad to put some hilly distance between Mr. Freakface and her. The crowd wasn’t as thick once she navigated her way off Raster Street, but the streets were still small enough to push people closer together.
Two hills later, Calla was out of breath and had to take a water break. She dumped water on herself, letting it soak into her white shirt. She sat on the ground with her back against a building. The courier pulled her foot closer to her to examine the damage. Blisters had already started to form on the pad, and the foot on the whole was filthy. She held her breath to brace for pain as she decided to pour water on her foot. She gently rubbed the bottom of her foot, cleaning the blisters off. No matter how tender she was about it, though, it petchin hurt.
”One more, then you’re pretty much done..” Calla told herself as she stood. The last delivery of this round was a few chimes walking distance. She chanted profanities to herself as she walked to ease the pain. Soon enough, she had arrived.
Calla leaned through the doorway to the shop, package safely in hand.. ”Delivery from Priskil’s Spire.” A woman about Calla’s size popped out from the back.
”Oh, really? They’re here? Already?” The woman skipped to Calla, arms open and ready to accept her box.
”Here you go.” Calla handed over the box. The package was barely in the woman’s hands for two ticks before she began ripping it open.
”Oh thank you! I’ve been waiting for these for forever.” The woman turned and sat on the ground as she finished opening the box. Calla started to walk away when the chipper woman beckoned her back. ”I know you probably have to get back to work, but can I get your opinion, please?” Calla turned back around to see the petite woman twirling in front of her. ”So? What do you think?” The lady pointed to her feet, where a pair of brand new boots were proudly being presented. Calla scoffed, feeling her lungs deflate like a balloon. The shoe god clearly had a sick sense of humor.
Calla sighed, cocked her head, and finally responded. ”They look . . . cool.”
![[Featured thread]](./images/medals/Featured-Thread.gif "[Featured thread]")
