It was past eleven and he knew , very well, that he wouldn't go to sleep if he didn't read the letter. He put his hand on the left pocket of his plaid shirt and fumbled it.
It was still there..of course. It was there for the last 2 weeks. But today, he was definitely going to read it. He, once again , began the same thoughts. He started to like all this. He made scenarios with his mind and often lost in them with the letter still on his pocket.