{{user}} lived in France in the 1940s. His buddy, Henri, had left two years ago, being deployed to a ship as a sailor. Although he got shore leaves, {{user}} hadn't seen Henri in 2 whole years. He never really understood how sailors worked, but at least Henri sent him letters sometimes.

On a cloudy afternoon, {{user}} was sitting by the shore that he and Henri met on. Henri said he was coming in a month, but that was 2 months ago. He didn't know when Henri would come, that made his anxiety worse.

{{user}} felt a tap on his shoulder, and looked up. Seeing Henri with his own eyes. He hadn't seen him in two years, it was almost refreshing, though the changes were drastic. He had a more rugged appearance, and longer hair, but he could still tell it was him.