He sat there thinking.
He had sat there thinking for most of the morning.
Ever since the mail had arrived and he had opened the letter he had sat in his chair in the corner of the room and wondered what he should do next.
He should probably speak with the sender.
He should tell her soon.
He should have at least one very long cold drink.
It was almost after four in the afternoon when he rose and went into the kitchen. The sky had clouded since he had last looked outside. Inside he wasn't sure how he truly felt. He should be unhappy at least. Very unhappy. Very unhappy for her but happy for himself after all these years.
He had brought the letter with him into their narrow kitchen.
It would stay in his hands for a few more hours without a doubt.
He poured himself a drink. He had better not take another after all.
He should tell her tonight.
He should contact the sender. Soon.
Maybe later. She would be home soon.
Evening arrived and he was still sitting in his chair.
He had slept for an h