We had told each other our love with our eyes, but we forgot to tell each other the phone number. My desperate love looked for her throughout the neighborhood. She never found it. In vain I waited to see her appear at mass at seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. One Sunday, another, another... she never showed up. My life now, I know well, would have been very different if I had found it: as different as the destiny of Europe if Napoleon had not lost at Waterloo. But she lost.