He let out a breath as he adjusted himself on his makeshift made of a sleeping bag for padding and pieces of wood to elevate it above the floor to give him a better seeing advantage. He had woken up early and left his hotel so he won’t miss the time she usually spent reading in front of the open glass. So he could see her… his Rosie … and that was all he needed to keep his now miserable life worth living.

He raised the binoculars, the glass trembling from the pressure of his grip. And ...