The girl who sits on the bench waits is sure that he will come, therefore she has no anguish; she is distracted by imagining the course of the meeting as if it were a dream or a fairy tale. Even before the agreed time she would see him arrive she approaching towards where she is waiting for him. She would be overjoyed to see him; she would immediately stand up and hurry to meet her. He would be surprised to find her; he imagined arriving even before her. They would greet each other politely and begin to walk just gliding down the path that runs alongside the stream. The afternoon would be dying but the heat of the spring afternoon would not yet begin to fade. It would all be like a tender torpor: there would be butterflies flying around her and like a breeze that would come from the stream to caress her faces. It would be all a happiness taking root in his souls, provisional. Behind them, in the sky, small bursts would signal the appearance of the first stars, at the moment when their shadows would approach until they were confused.