There’s a perfect chocolate lying on the pavement.
For an instant I become a 3 year old.
The child is reaching out, but the body does not move.
Somewhere between the impulse and the reaching,
a mechanism of conformity is preventing the action.
Fifteen years ago I lived in this city.
I recognized the people and the people recognized me.
Fifteen years is a long time in busy city life.
It feels like I don’t belong here at all.
A stranger … almost …
A stranger can reach out for that chocolate
What does he have to lose?
Dignity in front of people he will not meet again?
Dignity for those long dead who instilled the conformity?
For a moment there is a movement to reach out …
… and then I notice two people watching me.
The stranger conforms
to what strangers are supposed to do.
There is a chocolate shop not far away.
I’ll get 375g for about 8 euro.
Real Belgian chocolate.
No need to bend [down].