Aspen Trace at Gray's Hollow

He had not been expecting a letter. He was virtually a recluse and had been for almost a year now. Why would anyone have written him and how could they possibly know where he was? He noted that it had not been mailed; whoever had written it had hand-delivered it to his mailbox. Halfway into opening the envelope, he felt a chill creep down his spine. He set the partially opened envelope on the kitchen counter and stared at it. He thought about his wife, as he did every day, fifty thousand times a day. She was all he'd had in his life, and now she was gone. He saw her soft, green eyes telling him to open it, that it was important. But he was scared and he hesitated. After a moment, he did what the memory of his wife was telling him to do.

As he unfolded the paper, he saw the following words, scrawled in cursive (almost intentionally illegible):

"Be at Aspen Trace at Gray's Hollow at 6am on June 24."

Despite the missing salutation, he knew he was the intended recipient. And tomorrow was the 24th. What would have happened had he not opened it for a few days? Who meets at dawn? Was this some kind of sick joke? But no one knew where he'd gone after the police investigation was closed. The people in Evergreen, the nearby town, knew nothing about him or his past-only that he had bought the old, abandoned cabin on the stream and that he was antisocial.

Aspen Trace at Gray's Hollow... He knew it well. It was secluded-a place he went to every morning to watch the sun rise. Well, whatever was waiting for him had better not be a joke. The rage and sorrow that constantly raced through his veins would find an outlet in this asshole if he was f-ing around.

It was close to sunrise as he pulled off the road at the designated spot. It was a little lake in an alcove that looked due east-creating a perfect frame (and reflection) for the appearance of the sun. He was right on time and completely alone. On the hill, high above the lake, he sat in the grass under the Aspen trees surrounded by Columbine flowers. Minutes passed and the sky continued to lighten. The rays of the sun shot up through the mountain peaks and the top of the sun began coming into view.

He noticed someone walking up the hill toward him. It was a woman with long, curly, brown hair. Her faced was hidden in shadow, but he knew her. Frozen by awe and fear, he sat motionless as she approached. Then she stood two feet away from him with the rising sun directly behind her. Thinking her an apparition, he simply waited for her to speak to him. She knelt down and kissed him tenderly on the lips. Her green eyes were filled with tears, but she was smiling and he knew she was real.