Is he all right?
It’s been hours that I’ve been sitting here, waiting. He was supposed to be here by dusk. It’s almost dawning. First, I talked to myself for hours; now I’m writing down my thoughts. I just don’t know what to do with my hands.
Did he decide not to come? Was he bored with me? Does he fancy another?
I hope so. God, I hope so. Just as long as he’s alive. Just as long as he’s fine. Let her have him.
I’ll wait till sunrise. Maybe he’ll still come. And if not, then maybe by noon.
God, please…