Portland,

He never had thought travelling from place to place was going to be of this ease. What made him uncomfortable was how Fredrick's wife looked like. She was an old woman perhaps in her eighties.

How can she be his wife? He questioned himself because Fredrick looked to be a middle aged man.

The medieval men served him as a reminder that every ghost seemed to be of mid age. He watched the old woman's activities for the whole day. Her activities were no different than any other woman of her age.

She spent half of her day knitting wool even though it was summer. Her grandchildren and sons were the ones who pushed the wheel chair and took her to the church where she spent her time till evening. When she was pushed back from church then she did not get back to her regular knitting business.

She instead chose pen and paper this time.

FREDRICK. She scribbled with her wrinkled hands which trembled with each alphabet. The woman slipped it in the envelope, glued it with difficulty and watched around before she wrote on envelope – TO REVIVAL FACTORY.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Old woman called the youngest child in their house and told him to drop it in the mailbox without letting anyone know about it.

"Shoo! Shoo!" She waved her trembling arms at the window where a pigeon was pecking the glass.

Boone disappeared from there.

He had not thought Fredrick would be looking for his way with this intensity of seriousness.

"How is she?" Fredrick jumped towards him.

"She misses you." Muttered Boone, not mentioning the letter to Revival Factory.

He went on to tell Fredrick how his days passed. Praying and knitting.

"She had started to sense Ivanov and Langer." Fredrick pointed at them, "I think no soul can keep on tracking anyone without letting them know about our watchful eyes."

"You want us to return the favor?" Langer approached.

My wife was killed by Crowman. Letting these guys contact someone killed by Crowman can get them in trouble.

"No." Boone had the answer even though he knew he could get information about his wife, who perhaps was there, invisible to him.

The next day, Fredrick disappeared.