• He had been worried for days now, looking through the mail and spending hours sitting by the window waiting for her to return. When he had to go to work or leave his place by the window to do his daily activites he seemed to act as if in a trace, slightly worried looking as if he wouldn't be there when she'd get back. Some nights, when he decided to wait the night out and stay up, he became so drowsy and tired of waiting that he half expected her to come walking up the drive-way any moment to relive him of his post. The days had started to blend together, and during the two years he had spent waiting on her, he sometimes took her picture out and looked at it, so as not to forget her face as weeks went by. It suprised him sometimes that he didn't even question why he had to wait for her. It was just instinct to him. Sometimes though, the waiting got to him and he became moody, making him punch walls in anger or even break down right there beside the window. His friends were worried about him constantly, and told him to let her go and get out of the house, but he never listened to them anyways. Why should he? They were't there that night, and they couldn't understand him even if they had been there. He had promised himself the day after that he would wait for her, so that he could be there when she returned and appoligise properly. He had even been waitng so long that when he recived the letter with that familiar scent on it, a vanila and peppermint sort of smell, that his brain didn't register the significance of it until the night after. Sitting there in his chair with the curtain on the window drawn open it finaly dawned on him, and he jumped up imediatly and rushed to his stack of mail. Ripping open the letter he almost missed the small object that fell from it,. Picking it up off the ground he examined it carefuly. It was a small coin, hundreds of years old by the looks of it, but polished almost to the point of blinding him. He turned it over and over between his fingers, wracking his brain trying to find the significance of it. He squinted his tired eyes and brought it up closer to him to make out the small marks in the sliver, leaves and symbols spread out on the bacground with a small portrait of a woman in the center. He stared at it for some time before turning his attention back to the letter.
    Dear Bill,
    I'm sorry for the long wait my love, I hope I haven't worried you too much. I'd have been back sooner if I could've had my way, but oh those damned politicians... At any rate, it can't be helped, and I seemed to have found my self in a bit of trouble. I appologize for the lack of information inclosed within this letter, but I'm being watched you see. I can explain it all to you when I see you, for now I have a favor to ask of you. There is a coin I included with this letter, bring them both to my colleagues down at my old office, they will tell you how to get to me. Please, be careful...
    With love,
    Mary