Grace knew what it meant. It meant goodbye. And it was best that the goodbye wasn't truly face to face. The door that separated them, was, in Grace's perspective, the savior between a goodbye and a bad goodbye.

She reread the pamphlet, the message, then the pamphlet again. It said eleven p.m. Eleven p.m. tonight, on September 17th. Grace quickly checked her watch. Seven p.m. She had four hours until Felix would come out of his house to leave for the school in the city that's out-of-state.

So, she decided she would come back and wait for him at ten. That way, she couldn't possibly miss him. That way, Felix could explain to her exactly what was going on. That way, everything could be resolved.
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It was ten thirty. Grace had put on a dark gr(a/e)y sweater and pulled the hood over her head, keeping all of her auburn hair hidden and her face covered by silhouettes. The rest of her figure was dark, like she was carrying a shadow on her back. It wasn't necessarily chilly out, but she had the desire to wear her sweatpants and shoes anyway.

She hadn't really thought about it until then, but how exactly did she want to approach Felix? Was she supposed to be angry with him for ignoring her? Or…was she supposed to act reassuring, where he could be honest with her? Either choice could get her an answer, technically, but she didn't know which method, of, to put it frankly, interrogation to utilize.
Grace checked her watch. Ten thirty-three. She was sitting against the fence that both connected and separated Felix's home with hers. Her arms rested on her knees as she appeared scrunched up in the midst of the darkness. She was just waiting until eleven. Then hopefully everything would be made clear.

She sat there for another ten minutes until she heard the front door of the burgundy house on Postmaster Street open. She looked up and saw Felix's mom, purse in hand, leaving. She locked the front door (of the burgundy house on Postmaster Street) as she made her way to the silver Sedan parked in the street in front of the burgundy house on Postmaster Street. The doors of the car unlocked with a chirp and Felix's mom got into the driver's seat, turned the car on, and drove away. Grace assumed that Felix's mom just had a few errands to run before dropping off Felix.

Grace waited another fifteen minutes. It was then ten fifty-eight. Was Felix pushing the time exactly? Grace had no clue, but she decided to walk to the front door of the burgundy house on Postmaster Street.

Ten fifty-nine. Grace stood on the porch of the burgundy house on Postmaster Street. She couldn't believe it.

There was a note on the front door. She recognized Felix's handwriting on the note in an instant.

I was in the car the whole time. (Flip for details)

Grace could do nothing but snatch the note off the front door of the burgundy house on Postmaster Street and find out exactly what Felix wrote on the back:

I had the feeling you would wait. So, the minute you left, I hid in the backseat of the car. Pretty slick, huh? Well, a piece of advice Grace. Us, crossing each others paths was a coincidence. And, this parting was inevitable. But, you must accept one goodbye for another hello. Just like last time, with Lawrence Howe.

Grace stood for a moment, note in hand, and noticed the u in us was starting to bleed as her tears dripped onto the page. Another word, one by one, began to smear, smudge, and spatter as one tear after another came down from her emerald eyes like a bottle of olive oil. She couldn't stop it. She couldn't hold back the tears.

Meanwhile, Felix sat in the backseat of the silver Sedan taking him to the school in the city out-of-state. There wasn't much he could claim he knew if he walked into that campus that very moment. But he knew one thing he could claim.

All of this, the heartbreaks, all of it could have been avoided if he could have just been able to express his feelings for her. What caused him to build a wall around his heart? Because underneath that walls tough exterior, love was waiting, like a shy child, to speak out. But it never got its chance.

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“So that's why you want to be in the mail delivery service? Because of a little puppy love that never happened?” the interviewer asked. Grace was sitting in the post office, hoping for a job as a postwoman.

“You could put it that way, but yes, that's the basic reasoning,” Grace agreed. The way the interviewer put it sounded a little off, but she didn't mind too much.

“Well, you certainly qualify with your education. So, I guess we can hire you. You ready?” the interviewer asked her.

“Of course I'm ready!” Grace exclaimed happily.

“That's good. We're a bit short-staffed at the moment, so please make your way to the Head of Materials. He'll get you a bag and a uniform fitted. You start training tomorrow.” the interviewer said.

Grace quickly got up, thanked the interviewer with a handshake, then quickly left in pursuit of her dream job. Why, exactly, was it her dream job? Maybe living on Postmaster Street had something to do with it.

Grace quickly made her way to the front desk.

“Umm…where is the Head of Materials?” Grace asked excitedly. The man at the front desk spoke in monotone.

“You're new here? Down the hall, last door on your left,” the man said, pointing to his left. Grace quickly made her way down the hall when for some reason she remembered Felix's words about how you had to accept a goodbye for another hello.

She finally understood him when the Head of Materials doorplate read Lawrence Howe.