He clasped his hands around hers and pulled her close to his chest. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips softly to her forehead before dropping his forehead to hers. “43rd and Cranston,” he closed her fists around the paper. “They’ll be looking for it too, so be careful.” He squeezed her hands tightly before turning and walking off into the crisp air.
She looked down and opened a small folded paper. In bold black type was a single line: 11815 . “Wait!” she shouted, “what does it mean? What do I do with this?”
He was nearly 1/2 a block away at this point, but he turned back towards her. “43rd and Cranston. Get there… and be careful.” He turned the corner, disappearing from view.
With Love, Mia
Nov 8: Today I am thankful for the little things in life: air conditioning, running water, a warm bed to crawl into at the end of the day.. the little things.