Tic…tock…tic…tock.
He stared at the old embellished iron clock on the wall.
Was she coming? She had promised that she would in her last letter.

His gaze shifted ever from the clock to the old dirty window in the center of the room.
It felt like an eternity since he had last seen her. He had a habit of watching the clock when he received her letters and this time was no different. She never told him where she went, but then again, he never asked. Each time it had taken her longer and longer for her to reach him, but this was, by far, the longest. He had watched as the hour hand revolved 364,999 times, and counted every single revolution. Her image was growing hazy in his mind. What did she look like?
Tic…toc…
His eyes saw another revolution of the hour hand.
500 years to the second.
His spirit sank as the hour hand on the clock, unhindered by time, marched on. He sat and waited…and waited….and waited…

Was she coming?