Where the streets have no names
They did, in fact, have names.
It was just that they didn't register to him. He had never been here before, and he was reasonably sure he would never be here again. What would be the point of remembering the names of the streets, he thought. His eyes glazed over at the street corners, as he gazed perfunctorily at the neat little signboards, standing like diligent soldiers who felt mighty responsible about their duties. He looked around at the corner, wondering where he should go now. The streets all looked about the same, and none seemed to beckon him more than any other. They might as well have no names, he thought. He imagined what such a town might be like - where the streets have no names. There was a song, wasn't there? Nice song, that. And he began to hum, slightly off tune, as the song began to play in his head.
He crossed the road and kept walking straight. He wanted to find the old section of town, with the cobbled streets. Today, he wanted to walk on cobbled streets. He was bored with the straight and narrow and orderly roads. I could live in a place like this, he thought. It's more...alive, somehow.
It was late afternoon by his watch, but it was also late summer. The sun had reached that uncomfortable angle where it was shining almost straight into his eyes. But he looked around him and life seemed to have slowed down. People who would normally be rushing around seemed to want to stop for a cup of coffee, a bite to eat, a glance at the papers. It was all yellow. It was time to rest a bit, he had walked a fair distance. He walked to the small eatery on the left and smiled at the girl at the counter. She smiled back and took his order. He told her he would be sitting outside, paid for his coffee and baguette, and took the table closest to him. While he waited for his order to arrive, he smiled at the prospect of indulging in his favourite pastime. And there was no dearth of subjects here. He could go about it absolutely unnoticed, and the sun would help him. Life was wonderful. He was still smiling when the pretty girl came to his table with his order. She flashed a shy smile at him and walked back. He turned around and looked for a while, and turned back to the street. Life is wonderful, he thought.
He took a sip of his coffee, and it burned his tongue a little.
It was just that they didn't register to him. He had never been here before, and he was reasonably sure he would never be here again. What would be the point of remembering the names of the streets, he thought. His eyes glazed over at the street corners, as he gazed perfunctorily at the neat little signboards, standing like diligent soldiers who felt mighty responsible about their duties. He looked around at the corner, wondering where he should go now. The streets all looked about the same, and none seemed to beckon him more than any other. They might as well have no names, he thought. He imagined what such a town might be like - where the streets have no names. There was a song, wasn't there? Nice song, that. And he began to hum, slightly off tune, as the song began to play in his head.
He crossed the road and kept walking straight. He wanted to find the old section of town, with the cobbled streets. Today, he wanted to walk on cobbled streets. He was bored with the straight and narrow and orderly roads. I could live in a place like this, he thought. It's more...alive, somehow.
It was late afternoon by his watch, but it was also late summer. The sun had reached that uncomfortable angle where it was shining almost straight into his eyes. But he looked around him and life seemed to have slowed down. People who would normally be rushing around seemed to want to stop for a cup of coffee, a bite to eat, a glance at the papers. It was all yellow. It was time to rest a bit, he had walked a fair distance. He walked to the small eatery on the left and smiled at the girl at the counter. She smiled back and took his order. He told her he would be sitting outside, paid for his coffee and baguette, and took the table closest to him. While he waited for his order to arrive, he smiled at the prospect of indulging in his favourite pastime. And there was no dearth of subjects here. He could go about it absolutely unnoticed, and the sun would help him. Life was wonderful. He was still smiling when the pretty girl came to his table with his order. She flashed a shy smile at him and walked back. He turned around and looked for a while, and turned back to the street. Life is wonderful, he thought.
He took a sip of his coffee, and it burned his tongue a little.
spouted by Non-Sensei at 1/17/2005 08:48:00 PM
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