There was a man walking around the park where you were sitting in, with a frown in his face and a leather jacket. There was something in his eyes, a sour feeling that was easy to notice when you payed enough attention in him which matched entirely the look on his face.

He seemed ready to run, with his hands in his pockets as he walked for the seventh time in the same road as before but in some way he seemed more confused about the floor where his feet were standing.