It was a hot Summer Sunday afternoon. I was sitting at this place, looking at the lake and the mountains.
I didn’t have a boyfriend, but I wished to have one. I tried to read a very intelligent book and to have a very intellectual expression on my face.
I didn’t concentrate too much on my book; I was spying to discover a single man, looking as well very intelligent and very intellectual.
It was one of these five hundred Sundays. I felt very lonely.
It never happened: this chance encounter.
I finished my studies: with brilliant results. I had a lot of interesting discussions with my professors.
A male counterpart at my age came to see me from time to time – but only in my dreams.