The letter.

[Verräterpackaging]

Spoiler: Come out the wilderness

The Letter.

There is a man on a train - it came from the West as it approached Prague. Entering the trainstation afterwards, a man got off. He looked rather relaxed, but hasn't gotten enough sleep. His suit is clean, the sleeves rolled up and his boots shiny. He glared over what he has seen - it was so very different from the last years, but so familiar yet again. In his head a song spun again, over and over again. One could wonder if it was the only thing he thought of sometimes. He walked down the path layed out, presented his CID to the officers inspecting and got on his way. Only a suitcase he needed for the days he was going to be here. He has been travelling for a few days already, the first thing to do was to visit the next ration station. It was a little package with some synthetic meat - but that didn't bother him. Perhaps he was the only man to open a package with such a smile on his face in this ration center. "The small things matter." he thought to himself with a chuckle, enjoying his meal.

It wasn't long, then the meal was over. He looked over his watch. 1630 already, and he still had alot of work ahead of him. Standing up, he slowly strolled down the streets, taking in the city. Apartment blocks, medical centers and whatnot. But soon enough, he was able to make it to a small screen on a wall. A man stood infront of it, typing away some things. He looked older than most, rather well clothed.

"Hello there, sir. Sorry - I just need your help for a minute. Could you - "
"Ah, yes - yes - what is it lad?"
"Sorry to bother, really - I'm new here, I - well - I don't know how to get around yet. I am looking for my fianceè - she was relocated and..."
"Your fianceè? Oh, congratulations! What do you need?"
"Oh - really, I - I am just bad with terminals. Could you look up her address? I've got the CID written down here - It's just a minute, really - sorry."
"No worries - let me see - - - when did you propose?"
"A few months back. I had to run alot through Civil Administration for it. It took us a few years, haha."
"Good for you. I hope that will last, after 17... - well, here's the address, you want to write it down?"
"Yes - yes, just a moment. And - thank you, really. You've been a great help."

Swiftly, what was displayed was written down. It didn't take long and the two said goodbye to each other. Perhaps it was the suit, perhaps the armband that impressed the other one that much. It's a few blocks down, a rather good area he thought. 1800, the sun is still shining - and he's gotten to the place after a few breaks to take a closer look at the block. It was all loyalist housing, it seemed. He had to chuckle, shaking his head. "Been a long time." he muttered to himself, stepping inside after the biolock was disengaged. Going up the stairs in the apartment that was addressed, he got to the door. Knock - knock - knock - it was rather loud. Then footsteps - clack, clack, clack. The door unlocked - and then opened. A neutral face met him.

"Yes?"
"Oh, sorry - that was the wrong door. You don't happen to know a Mister Marschall, do you?"
"No - there is no Marschall here -"
"Oh, my fault - sorry, I will not bother you again."

The door closed again - it was a short moment, alittle weird out. But as soon as he was around the corner, he seemed rather relaxed. Taking out his notebook, he started to sketch something rather quickly - along a few notes. Right after, he read the other names on the apartment doors, looked for the exit at the roof and any open windows. And as he got settled in, he remembered another song.​

Spoiler: Working Music

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The day went by, he found himself a cozy spot in an alley, some apartment was broken open. Rats already made it their home, seems like he enjoyed his new companions. He woke up on 0600, swiftly moving to the street again. He took great care not to be seen already, waiting for the sun to rise. It's the same apartment block like yesterday, he was just a few streets down. He looked like he was working on something - but he really wasn't. Then - 0730 - they came out. Swiftly noted down, he started to follow. Has he become a mailman now? That's how it looked like atleast. They entered a coffee shop a street down, it didn't seem as rundown as the rest of the city. And the coffee, he had to admit, smelled rather good over his half of the street.

It went on the whole day, he walked after, taking a good look at the people around the streets. The Clinic, the Park - then the Ration Center. It was a good city, while here and there some things are in disrepair - but overall, it hasn't been hit that hard yet.
Going to sleep right after, another day has already passed. The toothbrush and the razor from the ration made sure he wouldn't look like he the place where he slept.


It's the third day now and the sun is still shining. But it looked like clouds were on the way already, atleast the last two days have been enjoyable. At 0730 it all began again. This time, he was in the coffee shop though - having bought one himself. The beans are not real, that is for sure. But a coffee is a coffee. A few hours would pass and soon enough, he reached the park - it was a small one, but it seemed cozy between the blocks. Clouds already covered the sky again, but there was still a warm breeze left. He took a seat on the bench, and waited...

Spoiler: The Stranger

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The bench looked inviting, that was sure enough. A letter was in his hands, something writting on it - not open yet. Looking down, a short glance was passed to his watch. It was to early, but he is missing the time. The clocks been ticking since he got here. Minute after minute passed, and with each passing minute, more thoughts were evaluated in his head. A few birds went by... there they are! Coming right towards the bench - just like yesterday. It's the best place after all - wide and open. It was a guess, not much more, but one that could pay off right now. And she - she walked by - shit! Too afraid of some occupied bench?

"Miss - sorry, you dropped something!"
She turned around. Looking rather confused at the ground, then at the sitting man. He still held the letter in his hand. Wait - isn't that the man from two days ago? What is he doing here?
"Ah - shit, the note's gone - wind took it. Sorry, I've - huh."
"Oh - uh, no worries. Havn't I met you about... -"
"Met - oh, yes - yes, sorry, I'm still new to the job - taking my break - I'm the new mailman."
Mailman. Yes, he went with that. Bloody mailman. If Fitzgerald would have heard that, he would've shot him himself. But - somehow, it broke the ice atleast. She was going to take a seat on the bench, a coffee still in hand.
"Are you responsible for the whole block? Seems like alot."
"Yes - but I get by, Jeremy usually helps me with the shifts, but he's gone sick - and... I don't have the experience yet to handle everything. I'm Charles, by the way."
"Michelle - found yourself a good spot for a break, didn't you?"
Hah, sometimes you got to have luck, right? Swiftly, he reached for a smoke, getting it lit. He took a deep drag, and then turned over to her.
"Seemed inviting - you couldn't perhaps help me again? I've got this letter, but it only got a written CID. I don't know the people from the block - perhaps you can help?"
She nodded, taking the letter he held out for her - wait a second, that's her CID! What a coincidence to have... coincidence? She opened it right away, was this really for her? Her eyes grew wider... they read through the letter with haste. For a moment, she has forgotten everything around her - the mailman smoking his smoke, and for a moment the sun reflected in his eyes, a silver loom.

"Michelle."
She looked up - confused, perhaps worried. Her finger tipped the letter over and over again, and he surely noticed that. His mind pondered somewhat, evaluating risks, probing his options on what to say, before he made a choice. It took a short moment.

Spoiler: So will you please say hello?

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