My eyes dart back and forth, scanning the busy sidewalk as I quietly exit the store, package in hand. The air is crisp as I gulp it in like giant mouthfuls of water. I duck beneath an awning to escape the push of the bustling crowd. With one hand, I deftly wipe away the nervous beads of sweat off my brow. Looking around, I check to make sure the coast is clear before setting forth into the stampede of rush hour foot traffic. My heart pounds quick and skittish inside my chest, mimicking my jittery stride. A large man with a dark black mustache bumps into me. He grunts a quick apology as he continues to shove past my dazed body. Frantically, I check the inside of my jacket. It's still there. I breathe a deep sigh of relief.
A flash of blue catches my eye and my heart stands still, frozen as if caught in the act. The way ahead is blocked by a female officer heading towards me. Her face is a blank mask- all except for her eyes. Her green eyes burn with a fierce intensity like a jade fire that belies her stoic expression. I dart around the corner and start off at an all out sprint, like an outlaw running from the deputies. I weave in and out of the mass of bodies, like a leaf navigating down a rapid stream. I glance behind me and see that she is still behind me. Has she seen me? Did she see what I did? Frightened, I surge forward with renewed intensity. Seeing an alley to the right, I veer into the darken path and continue until my lungs burn red with fatigue. Exhausted, I cast an eye down the route that I took and notice that I am alone.
The hour is late by the time I reach the front steps. Along the way, I stopped by the safe house to gather clean clothes. I stood there with the parcel tucked safely away in my jacket pocket. I smooth the wrinkles out of my shirt and wipe away a piece of lint on my pants. I check my breath. There's a faint linger of my last meal. My last meal as a free man. My finger shakes as I ring the bell. Each second feeling like an eternity weighing down on my heavy shoulders. Finally the door creaks open slowly. I'm greeted by a pair of green eyes. Instead this time, the intensity is replaced by affectionate warmth. My hands fumble as I dig for the precious item. I drop to my knees and look up at her surprised face, those green eyes filling up with tears. My quivering fingers open up the box as I ask with trembling lips, Will you marry me?
Personal Data - [image: Do I just leave money in my mailbox? How much? How much money do they need, anyway? I guess it probably depends how the economy is doing. If stocks...
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