When you go out to lunch hour to breathe air that is not paper and processors (no matter if he is out of traffic and engines, at least you wake up cold, all at once), you realize you do not have with you about those who make confetti shoot the world and you are forced to barter lunch, then you walk to the corner ATM, and Brussels to gray skies already very bright. The first on the right shows a message that flashes on the screen, not very reassuring, that a woman occupies the center and the last is a girl to play with the buttons and press them more than they beats, rather than use your finger crushes them with his hands, gleefully. Before you take a step toward him, instinctively, because that door is open or better nobody is using it for its primary purpose: to supply colored confetti. But then stop the step and you get in line behind the woman, why not go in a hurry and can wait a few minutes, because after all - think - who the hell are you to stop the game of a little girl, imitating her mother there at the side and play with the buttons? And because your needs confetti should be more important girl's game?
not matter if the mother does not mind the small, does not think that someone else might need the cash, you do not have time to wait and weigh, in fact you glad to see the little play that for a moment turns, looks at you, maybe you understand and yet no , ignores you and you think back to play and instead back in its complex operations bank is busy , the little girl. And you come back to wait.
Then suddenly comes a man who carries a hurry excited, you see the door on him with great effort , and that haste is launching a first look at your row, a second to the child and saying no a word moves as you move a lot of potatoes . But small is not a sack of potatoes, he turns and looks at you with great big eyes and mouth trembling (prelude to a plant that does not explode) and together, like a choir, you think, "But you look at that asshole ". I know, the little girls should not say certain words, asshole, but she thought, I know, you hear with your eyes, you saw the lip with the cerebellum, said his asshole. Who cares if the girl did not speak Italian (the children speak all the languages \u200b\u200bof the world, you just learn how to listen), he thought of "But you look at that asshole " with a bit z ' softened and a slight French accent on or , before turning back toward the mother and grab the trousers in search of refuge. And while the lord of
quickly picks up his monotonous confetti spewed from the machine, turn the bottom right corner and watch the small giving her a smile even.
Haste. The hurry - I think - really makes us forget natural attention, too often makes us insensitive or justify who he is habitually insensible, then too easy to say "I was in a hurry " perhaps because the rush was for petty things that can wait, just distribute important. We do not know that we wait, the daily grind, and we end up being even assholes, as they think the girls here in Brussels.
0 comments:
Post a Comment