Joe stared at the bulky envelope. What had she sent him this time? The one previous hand-written letter had been her usual musings, the 'snail-mail' correspondence she'd begun a couple of months ago at his request - only he'd never quite found the right words to write back? Since then, she'd sent him bits and pieces; a stuffed toy, some coral, the organic sweetener she demanded he replace his artificial one with...

He poured some coffee and wandered over to the balcony. Another hot and steamy day almost over - not that the nights offered any relief this time of year; the humidity barely affected by the air-conditioner humming full strength.

He placed his cup on the small outdoor table and carefully slid the envelope open. Something fell out, and he caught it - a reflex action really. One of those things you do then marvel at? He looked at the small stone heart; the dark grey surface roughened and slightly misshapen from who knows how many years of water flowing over its surface.

Typical of her, he mused. She liked to surprise him with-

'What the-' The words escaped his mouth and he barely controlled the expletive, quickly looking around to see if he'd been heard. He stared down at the airline ticket bearing his name. Round trip Los Angeles to Sydney? Then what - an itinerary... her damn cottage in the bush and some 600 mile coastal drive back to the city where she lived? The sheer craziness of it made him sway a little. He sat, trying to draw in long calming breaths, the humidity and ever-present smog as always troubling his lungs. This was tangible! His online private world had exploded into his real-life; he was holding the evidence and suddenly, fear crept in.

These foreign names meant little to him apart from the odd descriptions in books he'd read. Some scenes from movies entered his thoughts briefly. Then her sometime chatter about the cottage and her last trip there "niggling at her" as she'd called it. He knew of it intimately; the open fireplace, the old bookcase lining one wall, the drift of sometime snow she swore she'd been told fell often there during the winter months. He rifled some more, looking for her letter. A single page, tucked between all the other stuff.

"Dear Pepe, I imagine you deeply shocked right now. Don't overthink it. Don't make it more than what it is. Picture you sitting here, sipping espresso and writing about the Damn Aussie Bush. Or walking an endless beach...  

Can you take this leap of faith?

Regards, Maria"

LOF. Now he understood the three letters in the back. He turned the envelope over and stared at those letters then at the pages spread out on the table; the same table he'd had a hurried breakfast at this morning with his daughters.