The pelting rain made it extremely hard to see out the window.She was already half an hour late and the weather made it even more depressing.Slowly sipping his tea,he reached out to wipe the frost so that he could look into the street more clearly.For some reason all he could hear at that moment was Beethoven's 9th,it kept going in his head in cycles,like a river flooding,overflowing and then..... dying down into a trickle.He kept going into the past....but strangely grimaced at the futility of looking for things to cheer about there, not because it was painful but because he did not trust the past.The past with its tinkling laughter and the rosy sheen and the joys which seemed so hollow from afar.He loathed the way his memory twisted the past making it more cheerful than it really was,obliterating the little niggling discomforts and the background of chaotic cacophony and just presenting him with the visual, no sounds nor smells.

He was always more of a nose-person.He had his phases in which he indulged in a variety of smells.....gasoline,varnish,coffee,freshly ironed clothes.for weeks on end he would confide in these smells and escape from the reality of the situation.His current weird favorite was the smell of metal, iron especially with the sharpness of its reach.

His musings were interrupted by a sharp rap at the door telling him that the lawyer had finally arrived.Moving steadily to the door he opened it and let the grim looking woman of around thirty-five in, accepting her apologies with a nod.The lawyer opened her briefcase and took out the required papers.
'All the papers are in order and only some issues need to be dealt with.'
'Yes,We shall do the needful.'

Three quarters of an hour later,the sheets were in his hands and everything was indeed in order.The lawyer had left some ten minutes ago .The old Mahagony bookshelf was to go to his son who had shown a great inclination in caring for his book-collection,replacing the covers of many dog-eared classics and carefully dusting the shelf with his faithful duster.His space age retro furniture was to go to Sam,what with him pestering him repeatedly to turn it in as it had long outlived its practicality and aesthetic value.He had already had his confidential and classified material shipped to the department of defense.Better keep things uncontroversial.A major portion of his savings would go to ICBL-International Society to Ban Landmines.He was not one of those ungrateful types.

He woke up with a start with the loud buzzing of the door bell.Quickly he stuffed the papers under the couch and felt his robe to make sure everything was in proper order.He grabbed his crutches and made it to the door.it was still pouring heavily outside.
'hi honey,how was your day' he heard her say.
'great'
'well,I am pretty tired today...so am gonna grab a bite and going straight to bed.You had your dinner I hope.'
'Well yes I did.How was your day?'
She turned around caught unaware at the sudden unexpected question.The only conversation that they really ever had was monosyllabic grunts.
'Well...same old...had to take the overseas call today y'know'
He could almost smell the fear in the air.Also the very faint smell of Chrome,a cologne he hated for the tangy citrus smell that made him sick.He did not think it was masculine at all.Before this it was Davidoff.

'I am fixing myself a sandwich... you want something?'
'No I am fine'.

He saw her enter the kitchen and listened to the clatter.He thanked his rubber soled crutches and for a brief moment remembered the good 'ol days when his fellow officers called him 'The cat'.

He moved stealthily towards the kitchen and positioned himself in the dark corner.He could feel the sweat at the back of his neck accumulate around the tiny vial on the locket.At once he could feel his entire being, even the cold metallic outline underneath his robe and he shivered in the coolness of his sweat.but then he smiled, he knew he will be rewarded with smell of sharp tangy hemoglobin.Warm iron on hard iron.The rain had stopped.