Paul took his time in the park. Despite the bitter cold winds, it was hard for him to make himself turn back. He sat on a park bench after clearing a white layer of dust off, and stared into his phone, watching his breath crystalize with every exhale.
He waited until a couple of hours had gone by and his fingers were too cold and sensationless to work on the touchscreen anymore, and then started back towards his house. As he walked down the street, he saw that most of the cars of the women were still there, parked to the brim in his family’s driveway and nearby on the street.
Behind him, he could see both sets of his footsteps stretching back towards the park, one on either side of the street. He had left, and now he was coming back, but it didn’t feel as though any major change of heart
