Our secrets are safe. It’s a 6.

Fingers, as gnarled as her favorite piece of driftwood rested uncertainly upon the touchscreen.

Surely he told me the security code, my fingers will remember the sequence, they must remember the sequence.

Eyebrows furrowed to compliment her growing frown; she let out a sigh of exasperation, whispering “why?”

Why, dear departed husband would you safe keep the passwords to all of our accounts in a receptacle so difficult to access instead of in a simple box under good old fashioned lock and key? At least then, I could call a locksmith.

Frustrated she could not recall the number sequence to open the safe; poised to concede defeat, she slowly closed her eyes, willed her mind to silence and once again placed her fingers upon the numbered key pad until she felt movement … 1 4 1 5 4 1