Only three words he spoke and I held on to them in the darkness every night since. ‘I am here.’ He whispered. The sun had dried my tears and the ...eltaine festival was over. Too late he had made his presence known and I walked home alone that morning. I had vowed to return this year knowing he would be waiting for me. Now I fight the urge to flee afraid and hopeful of what this night could bring. So many words were left unspoken between us. Such is the way when one dies so young. Those left. He was polite.Emmalee: Good, but tired. Just got off work.MrSir: That’s good. Just curious, where do you work?Emmalee: Benny’s. It’s a lounge down the street.MrSir: I’ve been there. What’s your name?Emmalee: Emma. It’s short for Emmalee.. You can call me Em if you’d like to… What’s yours?MrSir: Beautiful name. And you will call me Sir.Odd. This one was demanding. Our conversation lasted over two hours, when I finally decided I needed to get to bed. He asked if we could meet sometime, and I told. More

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