What's a four letter word for somebody meaningful?

Day after day, I walk up to the yellow box, four shiny coins in my hand. As I drop the quarters in their slot, anticipation trembles through my body.

I grab the morning edition hastily, flipping past murders, political wrongdoing, weather reports, dog and cat stories, cars for sale, and the latest sports scores.

At last, I find what I'm looking for. Scanning the boxes within boxes, and the corresponding clues, answers are already coming to me. I dig in my bag for a writing implement, hoping to find one in my bag.

The puzzle gets filled out quickly. I try to erase the smugness away,thinking it'll get harder as the week progresses. I give a nod to Mr. Shortz and his ilk, for a job well done.

I've acquired a bit of a reputation for my morning obsession, and I don't exactly hate it.

But why am I so compulsive about it? Is it to show off how smart I am, displaying my intellectual hubris like a gold medal around my neck? Yeah, maybe a little bit. There is a far more important reason: you.

That cool spring day in the park, where we sat with pens in hand, staring blankly at the page, trying something new. Prior to that, I'd never really tried one.

So as I sit everyday, working on acrosses and downs, i hold a little piece of you, us. A fragment of something much bigger. A memory of something that once was, and the possibility of what could be. Thank you.