He sat there, waiting.
She said 4 o'clock.
It was 4:10.
Maybe she's and running late, her work has been heavy lately.
It was 4:15.
He picked at the bouquet of flowers he'd bought earlier that day. A petal fell off.
It was 4:25.
His phone buzzes as hope spreads across his face. Just an email. Junk mail.
It was 4:30.
The other park goers look on with pity, seeing the sad man on a park bench. He knows.
It was 4:35.
His hands are cold. He pulls his jacket tighter around him, hoping that she comes soon.
It was 4:45.
A bright bouquet of flowers sit unattended on a park bench.
It was 5:00.