The warm summer air caressed my skin. People going on evening strolls, walking their dogs and chattering with their sweethearts. I glanced at the big watchtower. He's late.

"Hey". A tiny blonde woman tapped my arm. *Are you waiting for him?"

"Why? "

"You're here and you're wearing bourdeux."

"Yes, I was told to. Maybe he likes it."

"Favourite Color? No Idea. But his darkest secrets? Those I knew well..."

The blonde woman's face was tired and gaunt. As my gaze wandered down from her painted lips over her ripped faded deep red dress, the nervousness turned into panic. I never visited that park again.