He stood in the cold night, the light from a nearby lampost bathing him, covering him.
He raised his left hand and took a glance at the watch strapped onto it. A quarter past 11. It was late, but further ahead of him, resting on a wooden bench him was the silhouette of someone familiar.

Too familiar.

He just stood there, thinking. Had she been waiting for someone?

Anyways, I'm trying to brainstorm for ideas for stories. Help me out, will ya? Wait, this blog is unknown to everyone. Who am I talking to?