She was excited. The clock arms were indicating four.
For past ten days, he had been coming regularly. Nobody knew him and he did not talk to anyone-just came and sat on the bench across. But somehow he was the light of her life. She loved to imagine that he came for her. She loved to dream that he was her prince. She might be repulsive. But she liked to believe that he was fan of her choppy hair and he could see beyond chemotherapy-induced baldness. She hoped he never acted out of his character, lest her dream be shattered.