Obsession

Peter always used to do the same things at the same time. He always dressed the same way, too. He was obsessed with times. However, on a Monday afternoon he seemed disoriented, sitting on a bench in the park of another city. He had lost his wristwatch some days ago.

The bench in the park

It was a cold winter morning in the park. Blue sky and a little wind moving the branches of the trees gently. Pigeons, children speaking aloud while playing, senior couples here and there, cyclists, two fellows jogging. And there she was, sitting on the bench, blonde, well dressed,... and alone.

Obsession

Peter always used to do the same things at the same time. He always dressed the same way, too. He was obsessed with times. However, on a Monday afternoon he seemed disoriented, sitting on a bench in the park of another city. He had lost his wristwatch some days ago.

by Ana Cajal