Marcus thrust his hand into his pocket, muffling the jingle of coins he’d earned for today’s route. The round began as it always did, at Lot 140, located at the corner of Row 10. His journey stretched down to Row 20, occupying the better part of his afternoon.

The lots sprawled before him like a vast dormitory, each identically smothered in a dull whitewash, punctuated by an uninviting black door and two dimly lit windows. The small patch of concrete between each door and the perimeter wall served its intended purpose, a barren protective barrier.

The wall of lot 200 was no different to any other on the route, yet his heartbeat quickened in anticipation as it grew closer.

Marcus had found his first note on the wall, 3 months ago, just as the season had changed and the temperatures had become more pleasant.  He had left the package that the gate as normal, and had almost walked past the lot when he spotted a small flash of colour on top of the wall.  Curiosity drew him closer, where he found a yellow sticky note with a simple smiley face.

Startled yet intrigued, he instinctively glanced toward the window. Through the faint haze, he could see the beaming face of a girl who waved eagerly on his notice of her.

He returned her smile but, mindful of the rules, quickly crumpled the note and hurried on with his deliveries.  He knew he was in no danger from touching the note as he was militantly disciplined about his safety and took every precaution to avoid the risks. Yet the note felt perilous in a way he couldn’t ignore and the bitter taste of adrenaline lingered  long after lot 200 had faded from sight.

He had received 23 notes before he plucked up the courage to respond.  Her name was Evaline.  She was only two years younger than Marcus which surprised him because he thought she could not be much more than 12.  She was the youngest of three girls but now it was just her and her mother.  Her best friend, before he died, was a black Scottish Terrier called Sooty.  When she grew up, she would get a White Scottish Terrier and name him Snowy.  Her favourite colour was yellow and she could peel an orange in one go without breaking the skin.

Marcus broke through his initial reluctance to tell her about life beyond the great perimeter where people could come and go freely from their colourful homes.  He described his favourite walks along the river bank or running down the hill past the factory.  He also loved yellow but hated oranges so could not share in her joy at peeling one.

Throughout the summer, the wall of Lot 200 became the silent witness to the unfolding stories of their lives. Sometimes, they would indulge in fantasies, telling  tales of imagined worlds. At other times, they would simply ask and answer questions, discovering more about one another.

By the time Marcus had learned that Strawberries were her favourite food, he had also received the news of his promotion, from the delivery routes to the processing plant.  Though he appreciated the improvement in his own circumstances, a sense of guilt prevailed, as if he were betraying Evaline, leaving her behind.

He knew that, despite his best efforts to move forward, he would miss her. This summer had brought a sense of joy into his life for the first time in years, and he felt a connection he hadn’t believed possible in a world like theirs.

He kept the tone of his farewell hopeful, infused with optimism for better days ahead. They had never spoken of the future, as it had always seemed futile to do so, but now, for the first time, he found himself imagining a day when they would sit together on the riverbank, basking in the warmth of the summer sun, with Snowy by their side.

His feet felt heavy, as though weighed down by lead, on his final journey. He wiped his sweaty palm to retrieve his farewell note, but when he reached the wall, it was bare. His gaze shifted to the left, and through teary eyes, he saw the shuttered windows and the taped-up door. He continued walking, blinking against the sunlight, the note crumpled in his clenched fist, leaving the wall of Lot 200 as empty as his shattered heart.