Bright light of lamps, quiet pleasant music, and outside the huge window of the restaurant a busy street of the city before the approach of night. At such a time, it is always pleasant to sit at a table, eat slowly when passers-by who are always in a hurry pass by. They are all strangers, but with their bustle they complement the feeling of relaxation, because you are on this side of the glass. Not far from the table there is a waiter and every time I look at him, I have to smile. A smile does not come off anyway, but when our looks meet, I feel that he is ready to shrug his shoulders "I don't know where she is. Mom I swear." I smile in response and continue to look at passers-by, always running somewhere...