It is midnight, I was to meet her at nine under railway station’s clock. I waited to eleven, something might have happened, the train delayed (this was before mobile phones were invented) I didn’t have her home number. I walked along the docks where harbour light is forever throwing itself into dark water. I threw the flowers I had bought her, into the sea and saw them sink slowly into the sea, only the wrapping paper floated on the surface of despair. I was seventeen, it took great courage to invite her out, this humiliation and she had such a sincere smile. Why couldn’t she have said No in the first place? It was what I had expected her to do. A fog horn blared in the distance, the world knew I had been stood up. No escape. If anyone asked, I would have to play the clown, make a funny story to hide my sorrow for not dating a girl I thought I loved.
