Thursday. April 19th. 5pm.
An ambulance drives by. I can’t hear the sirens because my headphones are in, but the flashing lights are a dead giveaway. A cyclist has dismounted from his bike and sits at one of the tables outside. One by one, several others join him and I wonder if they realize how silly they all look, wrapped in tight bright yellow clothing, walking awkwardly on special shoes that makes their toes sit several inches higher than their heels, and still wearing their helmets and intense biker sunglasses. Seriously, they look ridiculous – are they aware, I wonder? Walking by on the brick-inlaid sidewalk, a rough looking gentleman, maybe in his 60s, carries a bag full of cans and pop bottles and stops at every pay-parking machine checking for unclaimed coins. When he stops to talk to a young woman, sitting and smoking alone at a table, she just laughs and he keeps walking.
The sky is quickly changing from pale blue to dull grey, but the constant stream of people outside my window doesn’t flinch. Beyond my music I can hear the prevailing sound of coffee grinders, and the smell of the freshly broken beans keep me from forgetting where I am; like a salt stick waved under my nose, unconscious thought remains impossible. The trees that line both sides of the street are wrapped in lights and their white twinkle is becoming more and more visible, as dusk slowly prepares the way for evening. A group of women, and one man they seemed to have dragged along, go power-walking by, dressed to the nines in Lulu Lemon and talking as fast as they’re walking, while the man just smiles and nods. Walking in the opposite direction, a little boy tags along behind a group of grownups, his eyes lifted to the blue balloon he carries with him, the string clutched in his tiny hands. Birds fly in lazy circles overhead and I wonder what the view is like from up there.
Today I have lots to see and little to say.
Sometimes life doesn’t need a commentary.
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