[there’s a small letter for him]
[the sender’s address has been redacted with black marker]
Hello, Tomos.
I suppose that firstly, I should apologise. I never intended to leave so suddenly but circumstances arose that I could not ignore. The British government is calling back people involved in the same project as me, and I cannot trust the US government to allow me to remain here in safety. I believe the safest thing for the majority to know is that I’m in Switzerland. But, since it’s you, I think I can be more specific. I trust you not to spill secrets.
I’m in a UN safehouse in Geneva. I can see the lake from the room here, actually. It’s rather beautiful. I’ve been allowed to leave the hospital, but I’m not allowed to go out in public yet. Risk of infection, especially after a skin graft. Plus I look like some weird hell creature right now, and I’m really not meant to be drawing attention to myself.
I never planned to leave so soon, and in a way like this, I swear. I was just…everything that happened. The fighting, the fires, the constant danger - I came to the Legion to feel safer and it came to a point where I could no longer put my trust in that. It’s a lot calmer here – I think you’d like it. Maybe I’ll see if I’m allowed visitors once everything has calmed down more.
If anyone asks, just tell them I’m safe. And for God’s sake, stay safe yourself.
- Vic.
Muffled peals of laughter bounced down the hallway; a fragmented jazz riff lilted off piano keys; outside, shouts echoed as a few people played a game of pick up football. The clock on his bedside table ticked.
He was quiet, hair still dewy with sweat from his run as his eyes grazed over messily scrawled lines. He’d always liked her handwriting. It was unfettered, personable, each loop and turn a little charmingly escaping uniformity as if it refused to submit to neatness.
A minute passed. His eyes flickered to the window for a brief moment before he looked back to the letter and folded it, tucking it in the front cover of the Bible sitting on his desk. For a second, he lingered hesitantly, hand hovering over the book.
Then, he turned away, and in a few moments the sound of water quietly thrummed against the shower floor.
