The Gallery.

Garry, I didn't want to wait any longer for you to find me, so I looked you up and found this email. I don't even know if you remember me. Look in the pocket of your blue coat, the ripped one. There should be a handkerchief there, if you haven't taken it out already. It has my name on it. Meet me at the café down the rad from the gallery, the one beside the florist. I want to see you again. -Ib