‘Do you know where he went?’ ‘No, no… but I do know that he left in a hurry, left most of his things here…’ ‘Do you still have them?’ ... perked up. ‘Yes. You want to take them? Just a bunch of old books and papers, taking up space. I put them all back here…’ He led me through the dilapidated house to a small area in the back. The place was very dark, and I was wary of tripping over the worn carpet. The old man grumbled as we made our way down a narrow hall, telling me that the other tenants in. After a few more days of only the flower and card Amy decided to contact her mysterious flower person under the assumption that he was letting her set the pace by not pestering her with his email address. Amy finally relented and sent ti_amo_molto, who ever the heck that was an email. Over the next few weeks notes were occasionally exchanged. The conversation was light, the admirer didn’t press her at all in a sexual or romantic way. But also the flower person gave no information about himself,. More

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