A girl is walking through the empty aisles of a hospital, dressed in jeans and a rain coat, her uncombed hair sticking out from under her gray hat. In her hand she's holding a paper tray wrapped in aluminium foil; she's eating cake with a spoon that still has chocolate ice cream on it. Noone else is there, except that guy on cruches in a bathrobe who just walked by. She knows her way, without looking up she leaves the hospital, still eating. It's half past nine p.m., dark outside. Some guys in wheelchairs are smoking cigarettes just outside the door. She doesn't give them a look. She zips up her jacket, as the wind is cold and she's not wearing a bra but carrying it in her purse. In the subway she finishes the first piece of cake and wraps up the rest to put it in the paper bag she brought.

A boy is sitting in his bed, watching a TV channel he doesn't like but is not allowed to change. Someone brings him a tray with undefineably mushed food on it. „The camera's on the ceiling“ she'd said. „See that white lamp? That's why it's round. They're watching us. And right now, I'm being shouted at by all those people in front of TV“. When he'd told her she was a riddle to him, she'd answered that if the human brain was simple enough to understand, they'd be so simple they wouldn't. Later, he'd dropped one thing after another, and she had to admit their jokes were way too shallow for any TV-show. They cracked up together anyway.
He looks for his spoon, the empty ice-cram box is still standing on his nightstand. A flower's beginning to wither. But the spoon's gone, it was hers, she'd brought two but taken them both with her again when she'd left. She'd left him a Gameboy, so that he wouldn't get bored.

„We'll sleep with open windows and listen to the rain
I won't get cold when you lie next to me.
Know that although you're waiting you'll never wait in vain
I promise you that I'll come back to thee.“