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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.

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