(First scene: Exit of Metro Verdaguer towards Passeig Sant Joan. Sunday afternoon. He reads a book sitting on a garden seat.)
— Excuse me, is it you?
— Is it you?
— No, definitely I am not. I’m not waiting for someone.
(Second scene: still at Passeig Sant Joan. Sunday afternoon. She’s sitting next to him on another garden seat. He keeps reading, she writes on a small moleskine).
— Sorry, are you waiting for someone?
— Yes, I am.
— Is he or she coming?
— It’s 'he'.
— Is he coming?
— I don’t know… Actually I thought he was already here.
(Third scene: Sunday evening. They are still sitting one next to the other one.)
— Let me introduce myself: Pablo.
— Hi, Pablo. Nice to meet you. I am Fernanda.
— Brazilian. You...?
― I’m from here, I’m Catalan.
They start to chat. They talk about so many things… They find coincidences in their way of thinking, they got excited about their differences, they decide to walk around and share a bottle of wine.
(Fourth scene: another Sunday afternoon. They are sitting together at the same seat at Passeig Sant Joan.)
— You haven't told me yet: who were you waiting for last Sunday?
— For you.
(Silence. Birds are heard nearby).
— So… it was me.
— Yes, but we figure it out just now.
— Yes, now we know it.
Then they kiss each other.
They kiss again.
They continue kissing each other.
They remain there, they don’t run away, they don't.
Whatever it is the “great end” of this short story, it doesn't matter. In fact they were especially happy at that moment – and it’s all about that.
It's all about that. Definetely.