It is getting late. The sun has set and the sky is turning quickly to dark blue. Soon it will be night. The street lights are not yet on. The shops are small. One next to each other. Few steps up from the road where cars, motorbikes, bicycles go to and from. The man in white was going to pick up his wrist watch. He had left it for repair a day or two before. During those couple of days he was constantly checking with his right hand the left wrist as if all of a sudden realised he had lost the watch his father gave me many years before. So, he was in a hurry to pick it up and feel again the familiar reassurance that old watch gave him.