The Promise, Part Nine
I must have accidentally dropped the paper out of my pocket when I got a drink. The wind probably blew it behind the fountain, along with the debris hiding its whereabouts. I know one thing; I’m not letting it get away from me again.
Faith is triumphant enough to giggle over the recovery. She hums as she walks back to her place across the room. “Thank you is not enough for your help, Faith. I raise my voice so she can hear. It means a great deal to me!” “You are most welcome,” she responded.
With the loss of my card, the time it took to sweep the lobby, and the hours of waiting, I got tired and sleepy. I carefully place the cleaned-up card in my new coat’s pocket and zip it closed. Even then, I’m clutching the treasure through the material.
Placing my rolled-up windbreaker in the corner of the bench, I lay my head down and close my eyes. I barely open one eye to check on the time and find it is getting late and the 740 hasn’t arrived. Once in a while, I become aware of the activity around me, but the overwhelming need for sleep overtakes whatever is happening, and I am out.