#kesskirata

The night sky had fallen and the moon was high and heavy when Frankie Morales finally parked his truck on the driveway. With a sigh, he ran a hand across his face and lifted the ever-present hat off his sweaty forehead to fluff up his matted hair. The humidity was something he never got used to.

He locked the truck, turning his eyes towards the dark house. In a way, he was not surprised the lights were off; Maria was a light sleeper and stirred if even the smallest ray of light hit her face. With his evening shifts at the job, Frankie had gotten used to coming home to a dark house and tiptoeing to bed next to his lady.

The door opened with a small creak and Frankie winced, hoping that the sound didn't travel very far in the old house. He would need to grease the hinges tomorrow to stop them from creaking. In silence, he toyed off his work boots and walked slowly towards the kitchen, intending to have a bite to eat before succumbing to sleep.

His lady sometimes left him a plate at the oven and he peeked inside hopefully. Only darkness greeted him and while it made Frankie frown, it was not unheard of. He straightened, wincing when the movement pulled on his back, and padded towards the fridge to grab some items to make a sandwich.

The fridge looked like it normally did, all stainless steel and Maria's paintings taped on it. First Frankie didn't even notice the envelope taped at his eye level, the day weighing him down but when he closed the door, arms full of ham and cheese, he realized it was there.

Leaving the objects on the table, he picked the thick white envelope up and ripped it open.