Missing panels

A low voice plays slowly into my ears. I walk round the fountain. Round and round. I feel happy. This music, a raspy fountain, people soundlessly kissing in the park's darker corners, all this must count for something. The rest of the day was not easy. But now the air smells of autumn and the tip of my nose is cold. A sprinkler has turned the wrong way. The lid of a trash can lies on the floor and the benches are wet. A newspaper is stuck on a backrest and this corner smells. I want to look at curtains, arches and brick walls in the dark. I wish I don't have to leave.