He sighed at what remained of his lunch. He just wasn’t feeling like rye and chicken today. Not after the miserable day at work. Anyway, more miserable than usual. A visit from his boss had ruined it, coming in just to ream him for his own sick enjoyment. That and the date Sunday with Anna had been miserable. Just thinking about it made him feel like breaking down and crying, which in turn made him even more angry. It didn’t help that they had walked through this park before.
He let out another sigh, doing his best to ignore the beautiful panorama of the park spread out in full spring glory in front of him, and instead chose to stare at the table. He’d eaten here for almost a year and never really looked at it. Drab red paint, with various graffiti scratched into the wood. He gazed thoughtfully at the carved messages. After a second, a weak smile broke out on his face and he reached into his pocket for his knife. But no knife, only lint. He slammed a fist into the table. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d bring it.