Between 11 and 11:30pm.
"So, you leave this place often?"he asked without a single glance my way.
"Only when I come here," I replied following his gaze.
"There's nothing to look at," he whispered.
"It's beautiful," I whispered back and walked away.
YOU ARE READING
Summer Park
Short StoryA June afternoon. I was standing in the middle of a park. And he happened to be there too.
