So I told her she was pretty. “Good.” She gave a wide and innocent smile. A half-dead brown cicada beat its wings against the asphalt. Our destination that night was an empty train station in the area. The station, hidden amongst residences, connected out to all places like a spider web. Sitting down, I lit a cigarette and watched the art student walk unsteadily on the tracks. There was a big cat up on the fence by the tracks, perched there as if watching over us. That was how we began having our night walks. Every Wednesday, we’d dress up and go out. Gradually, we recovered to the point where we could go out alone as long as the sun was down. Her idea, strange as it had seemed, was surprisingly effective. ---------- I’d nodded off, and a notification on my phone woke me up. I hurried to collect my thoughts. I remembered as far as drinking with the art student, having our usual walk, going home and taking a shower. Maybe I fell asleep immediately after. It was 11 PM. I picked up my phone and listened. The call was from a public phone, but I had no doubt that it was the girl I’d run over. “So you didn’t tear up that last page,” I said into the receiver. There was silence for many seconds, a way of the girl showing her pride. She didn’t want it to seem like she was depending on me. “You called this number because you want me to do something, right?”, I asked. Finally, the girl spoke. “I’ll give you a chance to score some points. ...Come to the bus stop from yesterday.” “Roger that,” I affirmed. “I’ll head there right away. Anything else?” “I don’t