Pretty much satisfied for the cheap price, I whipped around and strolled back to the car, retrieving my suitcase that contained the clothes, and random, but special objects I had collected over the years. But my most prized possessions above them all had to be: a broadsword that had been given to me from King Arthur himself, a necklace that bore the intricate, wooden carving of the cross by Father Josiah himself, extremely old, so old in fact I had to immortalize it through my breath, and a tarnished, chained circular, gold locket I always kept around my neck, hidden beneath a shirt, against my bare chest, which within its clasps was Marie's black and white picture.

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