I was standing there, under the tree that you told me was going to be the meeting spot.

I looked for you. You said you were going to wear a red dress, and in this lunch crowd of thirtysomething business men, I’d have thought I could spot you from a mile away.

Next to me, a band is playing for cash, hanging out on the rail leading to the river that snakes through downtown. The smell of hot dogs steaming at a nearby stand call to my stomach, but I ignore both the music and my hunger.

I’m much more hungry for you instead.

In the distance there is a shout. And then sirens. For some reason unknown to me, my heart sinks, like I tore it out of myself, and threw into the water.

I left the meeting spot, walking out towards the wailing. Red lights flashed in the yellow bright sunlight. A crowd has gathered.

You said you were going to wear a red dress, and for a moment when I saw you I thought you had kept your promise. Instead, it looks like the dress had first been white.

And you were late forever.