Time is too slow.
Her father had told her that he'd be there anytime. But she's been on this utterly nonsensical bench for the last three days. No one even slightly alike the description has appeared–not that she's ever met this man.
Her father portayed him as a pretty faced cherry boy with brown hair. 'Cherry boy' she found the idea absurd. Someone fitting that description must come.
However what appeared since she arrived here were far from a brown haired 'cherry' man.
Nothing...No one
She waited. Gracefully.
Time is too slow.
A man had arrived this time. Again just like the thousands before. "Are you Raphael?" She murmured vacancy forever reflected on her voice.
"Raphael? Sorry. You have got the wrong person."
For once she looked into his eyes and blinked slowly.
Time passed...
Time is too slow. But it still goes on.
"Do I know you?"
"No." She'd finally got a different response to her ever recurring question. To her suprprise this man was infact a 'cherry boy' with his spotless pretty face.
"But you know Vincent Dalles." She went through her hand bag–larger than usual–and brought out a rectangular object wrapped in a peculiar brown paper.
At her latest glimpse of this radiant face, she saw widened eyes followed by a "Who are you?"
"Yolanda"
She could already tell that he had guessed what has happened by his terribly trembling hands. What had befell on her father. And who he really was. This man knows it all.
Raphael collected himself and with a quick deep breath he had all his emotions in complete control.
"How do you know Vincent Dalles, miss Yolanda?"
"I just know him"
He sighed at her flat reply.
"Not so enthusiastic to cooperate, are you?"
"Enthusiasm requires effort."
"How do you know Vincent Dalles, mister Raphael?"
"You can say that we were co-workers."
Co-workers...that makes this young man, not much older than her, a criminal of similar offense. She doesn't know what had happened to her father exactly but she could tell he was in trouble. On their last interaction her father requested her to give that object to this specific man. A man she didn't know. But it's unfair to say that since even after 16 years spent together she didn't even know her own father, though adoptive, properly. How is she supposed to know anyone else in this world.
"Make choices and be happy." His usual catchpharse seemed so distant to her. To her 'Happiness' —is a heavy word. No one is truly happy...
She had heard these advice recited over and over again since she was four...Her father was kind enough to adopt her. However, now that she realised who her father was, she did surmise that having a daughter would make any man look safe. Cunning criminals love to look safe.
So her conclusion was that Happiness was foreign to her father's life as well.