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As we left the cinema, we first noticed the very cold of February. We were dressed for a mild summer’s day, stupidly, inexplicably, but so we were, and it was cold. We had just seen a film that was situated in Texas, and so the mental contrast was even bigger. I, however, was quite probably the only one making that connection, and I decided to keep it to myself.

In the small garden around one of the churches normally sits a fascinating homeless man. I think he meant to become a singer but lost his groove, or his drive, or maybe his beloved ones, and now he just sits on a bench in front of a massive church, humming and singing. When we passed the big gates, he was nowhere to be found. I missed him. I hope he found a warmer place to sing.

The next step was to cross two roads and two tram tracks. Thankfully, weekday traffic at midnight is calm there, so there was no danger at all. For some odd reason, I did hear myself saying, “It’s funny. In America, for example, jaywalking is like this really big deal, but here it’s normal; it’s not even a way of life. We just cross the road. People have to stop. We pedestrians are really important. It’s crazy. What does that say? I can think about this for hours.” I thought it was a good string of thought. She told me I already told her this. My memory knows how to embarrass me.

She missed a train home by five minutes, and it was my fault at that. We said good-bye at the third bench on platform eight.

One comment

  1. Getting hit by a car is painful - or so they say. lol

    hmmmm interesting ....but it would be better with 3 paragraphs...not sure why.

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