The park

He is walking through the park, cold breeze squeezing into under his jacket. It is, after all, an especially chilly evening. It doesn't really bother him, the wind; at least he's got the park to walk, as written in his planner. What bothers him, is the fact that he doesn't know whether to take the left or the right exit, to Somewhere after the walk in the park. He hates it, the fact that he doesn't know where Somewhere is, wishing he could go anywhere else but.