Rendezvous

From the park bench, Anna could see the clock face on the concrete tower clearly. Seven minutes to six. She had been early by half an hour, anticipating the rendezvous and dreading it. She was meeting Janos, for the very first time, at six.

It all started innocently. As part of her English language course, Anna’s had been exploring the internet. In English. The internet was not new to her, just surfing in English. She found Janos in a chat room for Armenians like her.

They had struck up an incongruous friendship. Janos seemed much better with the language than she was, but he was patient and understanding, explaining things when she got stuck, as she frequently did. Yesterday, she suggested they meet in the park. She felt at peace in the park, although right now, she was distracted. Her eyes wandered from point to point, always coming back to the park entrance. Janos had said he would wear a purple coat and carry flowers. It was late March and the last few days had been mild. The coat should be easy to spot, and the flowers would confirm his identity.

The soft susurrus of passersby lulled her to sleep. She woke to find the light fading and the park was nearly empty. The gas light at the edge of the carriageway flickered fitfully as it sprang to life. She felt cold, both outside and inside, where a deep sadness was building up inside her. He had not come after all. Maybe he never meant to. She stood up slowly, noticing something on the bench beside her. It was a wilting bunch of flowers. A scrap of paper was wrapped around the stems. When she unfolded the paper, it contained a single word. Tomorrow.