I scanned the surroundings. There was not a soul in sight.
I quietly walked towards her courtyard, deep into the chilly night, treading on the pavement as much as possible so as to avoid suspicion from possible nocturnal eyes. I trace the boundary, and jump inside the lawn just below her window.
The setting was perfect. The mild breeze over the vast blue lake was rustling the canopy of the tall trees around the terrace of the lakeside restaurant. The wooden bridge connecting the restaurant and the far side of the lake sat in the periphery like the finer details of an artist’s masterpiece – greatly intensifying the overall beauty. The sky was a palette of yellow, orange and red, with the sun moving away to mark the onset of a memorable and gratifying evening.
Everything had to be perfect, and I reiterated that to the manager multiple times. He assured me with such competency that it almost settled my jitters. I took a deep breath, tried to calm myself down when the manager said with a twinkle in his eye, “Sir, she’s here.”