"Me?"
"Yes, you."
"I've got a daughter."
"How old?"
"Six."
"Is she just like you?"
"Everyone says she's just like me."
"Is she like you when you were little? Does she wear white sneakers?"
"No, she likes to wear leather shoes. Her father buys her one pair after another."
"You're lucky. He sounds like a nice person."
"He's quite good to me, but I don't know if I'm lucky or not."
"And isn't your work also quite good?"
"Yes, compared with what many other people my age do, my work's all right. I sit in an office, answer the phone, and take documents to my superiors."
"Are you a secretary?"
"I'm looking after documents."
"That sort of work is confidential, it shows that they trust you."
"It's much better than being a laborer. Didn't you also manage to get through a hard time? Since you went to university, I suppose you're doing some kind of professional work now?"
"Yes, but it was all through my own efforts."
The colors of the sunset vanish. The sky is now a dark red, but on the horizon, above the treetops, there is an orange-yellow glow on the edge of a dark cloud. On the slope it is becoming dark in the grove and the young woman on the bench is sitting with her head bowed. She seems to look at her watch and then stands up. She is holding her handbag but decides to put it down again on the bench, as she looks at the path beyond the cypresses. Apparently noticing the moon by the clouds, she turns away and starts to pace, her eyes looking at the ground.
"She's waiting for someone."
"Waiting for someone is awful. Nowadays it's the young men who don't show up for dates."
"Are there too many young women in the city?"
"There's no shortage of young men, it's just that there are too few decent young men."
"But this young woman is very good looking."
"If the woman falls in love first, it's always unlucky."
"Will he turn up?"
"Who knows? Having to wait really makes a person go crazy."
"Luckily we're past that age. Have you ever waited for someone?"
"It was he who first sought me. Have you ever made someone wait?"
"I've never failed to show up for a date."
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
"I seem to."
"Then why don't you get married?"
"I probably will."
"It seems you don't really like her."
"I feel sorry for her."
"Feeling sorry is not love. If you don't love her, don't go on deceiving her!"
"I've only ever deceived myself."
"That's also deceiving the other person."
"Let's talk about something else."
"All right."
The young woman sits down. Then she immediately stands up again, looking toward the path. The last smudge of faint red on the horizon is barely visible. She sits down again but, as if sensing people are watching, she puts down her head and appears to be fiddling with her skirt at the knees.
"Will he turn up?"
"I don't know."
"This shouldn't happen."
"There are too many things that shouldn't happen."
"Is this girlfriend of yours pretty?"
"She is a sad case."
"Don't talk like that! If you don't love her, don't deceive her. Just find yourself a young woman you truly love, someone good-looking."
"Someone good-looking wouldn't necessarily like me."
"Why?"
"Because I don't have a good father."
"Don't talk like that, I don't want to listen."
"Then it's best not to listen. I think we should leave."
"Will you come to my home?"
"I should bring your daughter a present. It will also count as my best wishes to you."
"Don't talk like that."
"What's wrong with that?"
"You're always hurting me."
"That's never been my intention."
"I wish you happiness."
"I don't want to hear that word."
"Then aren't you happy?"
"I don't want to talk about it. It's been hard just to meet this once after all these years, so let's not talk about depressing things like that."
"Very well, then let's talk about something else."
The young woman suddenly stands up. Someone is coming along the path, walking very quickly.
"Well, at least he's turned up."
It's a youth carrying a canvas satchel. He doesn't slow down and keeps walking. The young woman looks away.
"It's not the person she's waiting for. Life's often that way, oddly enough."
"She's crying."
"Who?"
The young woman sits down with her hands over her face, her hands are raised and seem to be covering her face, but it can't be seen clearly. Birds are twittering.
"So there are still birds here."
"Not only forests have birds."
"Well, there are still sparrows here."
"You've become quite arrogant."
"That's how I managed to survive. If I hadn't kept that bit of arrogance, I wouldn't be here today."
"Don't be so cynical; you're not the only person who has suffered. Everyone was sent to work in the country. You should realize that it was much worse for the young women sent to the country where they had neither relatives or friends. The reason I married him was because I had no better option. His parents arranged for my transfer back to the city."
"I wasn't blaming you."
"No one has the right to blame anyone."
The streetlights have turned on and produce a wan yellow light among the green leaves of the trees. The night sky is gray and indistinct; even the stars can't be seen clearly in the city sky, making the light from the streetlights among the trees appear too bright.
"I think we should leave."
"Yes, we shouldn't have come here."
"People might think we are lovers. If your husband finds out, he won't misunderstand, will he?"
"He's not that kind of person."
"Then, he's a pretty good person."
"You can come and stay at our place."
"Only if he invites me."
"Won't it be the same if I invite you?"
"Too bad I didn't know your address. That was why I went to look you up at your workplace. Otherwise, I would have gone directly to visit you at home."
"You don't have to go into all that nonsense."
"There's no need for us to snipe at each other like that."
"You're the one who is saying one thing and meaning something else."
"Let's talk about something else."
"All right."
It has become dark in the grove and the young woman can no longer be seen. However, with the light shining on them, the lustrous green leaves of a white poplar seem to glow. There's a hint of a breeze, and the trembling leaves of the white poplar shimmer like satin.
"She hasn't left yet, has she?"
"No, she's leaning against a tree."
A big tree stands a few paces from the empty stone bench, and someone is leaning against it.
"What's she doing?"
"Crying."
"It's not worth it!"
"Why not?"
"It's not worth crying over him. She won't have a problem finding a good man who loves her, a person worthy of her love. She should just leave."
"But she's still hoping."
"Life's road is wide and she will find her own way."
"Don't think you know everything; you don't understand how a woman feels. It's just so easy for a man to hurt a woman. The woman is always weaker."
"If she knows she is weaker, why doesn't she try to learn to be stronger?"