I was so excited that I couldn’t sleep that night.

I tried on my clothes again and again. First, I wore black pants, a black T-shirt, and a black denim jacket, but when I looked in the mirror, I changed the jacket. Then I tried a white one, but I didn’t like that either. After a few more attempts, I finally chose to wear a brown denim jacket.

Then I picked up my camera and left for the park.

I arrived at the park at 10:00 a.m. The park was quiet, morning dew still clinging to the grass. She wasn’t there, which was obvious, since I had come early.

So I waited, thinking about her, how I had unintentionally clicked her picture in this park, and how many times I had looked at the picture I had first taken of her in the booth.

And then it was 11 a.m. I saw the time on my watch, my heartbeat grew louder, blood rushed in my body, and I started feeling nervous. I kept staring at the park entrance without turning away, knowing that she could come at any moment.

What should I say first when she comes? I thought.

What would her name be?

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t realize it was already 11:35.

She’s late. Maybe she has some work.

I waited, counting the leaves that skittered across the path and watching a sparrow hop from bench to bench.

And when I checked again, it was 12:15.

What is she doing? What if she forgot?

No… I don’t think she would forget. Maybe something urgent came up.

I should wait.

Time passed. People were coming and going, a couple laughing, a man walking his dog, but I stayed there. I didn’t know what I was feeling now, but I didn’t like this feeling. My heart, once fast and loud, was now still loud but beating slowly. I could hear every beat.

I looked at my watch again, and it was 2:00 p.m.

After that, I stopped thinking. A cold numbness settled in my chest. I just sat there, my eyes flicking from my watch to the entrance and back again. The world went quiet. The only sound was the relentless tick-tock of my watch. 

When I checked again, it was 4:45 p.m., but she still hadn’t come. The park was going to close in fifteen minutes, so I decided to leave. But I walked slowly, dragging my feet, thinking she might arrive at the last moment. A one-minute walk took me six.

I stopped at the gate. I didn’t think about anything; I just stood there.

After a few moments, I heard the sound of the gate closing. I looked back, and the gate was shut. So I just walked off in a daze.

I didn’t even have her number—how could I, when I didn’t even know her name.

While walking, I thought, Maybe she was late and assumed that I hadn’t waited for her, that’s why she didn’t come, or maybe something urgent came up.

Well… there’s no point in thinking too much about it. I’ll go to the library tomorrow and ask her.

I reached my apartment and opened the door. The silence inside pressed against my chest. I took off my jacket, dropped it and my camera onto the armchair.

Then I sank onto the sofa and stared at the empty ceiling.

My head was throbbing with a dull, persistent ache, so I decided to make coffee. But the silence ached more than the headache.

So I turned on the TV for noise, set it to the local news, and walked to the kitchen. My movements were slow.

I picked up a cup from the table, my fingers barely feeling the cool ceramic. I was holding it, staring into its emptiness, when the anchor’s voice cut through the fog.

“There was a fatal car accident near the road crossing today, and a twenty-year-old girl died on the spot.”

Hearing that, I stopped.

Then the anchor continued,

“The girl was wearing a cream-pink coloured frock… and bangles on her hands.”

I looked at the TV, and suddenly my breath hitched, everything blurred out. My vision faded, I could feel my cheeks wet, and hear the sound of my heart.

The cup fell from my hands to the floor and shattered into pieces that could never be put back together again.

And with the sound of its shattering, something else also shattered inside me