It was almost the end of the cold yet snowless winter that I lived in Seattle. I spent most of my time at work, and came back every night to sleep alone in a queen-sized bed in powder blue Egyptian cotton sheets. When I was alone, I watched movies and drank coffee with a lot of cream and sugar out of small yellow cups that my mom had given me before I moved away. My scheduled days off were during the weekdays when everyone I knew was at work or in class, so I would go get my hair done, or get a pedicure, or get a bubble tea and go shopping. One day in December, I went down by the Space Needle to drop off film at a place called Panda Photo and ended up walking the whole day, even though it was cold. The sadness of the empty streets moved me, and I didn’t want to get back on the bus.