Man with gold chain chewing gum in a hurry, a couple screaming at each other, two Japanese in duffle coats carrying pizza, men in boubou, women in headscarves, two Indians speaking loud, iPods, iPads, smartphones, laptops, earplugs, Chinese newspapers, Amsterdam only 29 Euros, all escalators out of order, Loup de Wallstreet out the 25th, Mandela, Angelique, lots of pushing, spitting on the ground, fruits and DVDs for sale. Homeless sleeping with big blankets, old bourgeois women wearing lipstick and eye shadow.
Leaving the underground, it’s cold, a different cold less dry, suitcases for sale, it starts raining, always end up alone in an ugly bistro with red wallpaper with patterns, times were Jean-Pierre Léaud drank one pasties for hours belong to the past, waiters running, serving table after table, feeling guilty for drinking tee, 4,30 € tee, first day always lost, always lonely.
Second day sun is finally shining, imagine myself living in Belleville, I wear my sunglasses, feeling cool and suddenly Parisian after hating it earlier, eating my first pain au chocolat, want to take the line 11, walk down the stairs, first person bumping into me screaming something, second as well, third also, more and more out of breath, running, a mass panic, what’s going on? The world turns inside out, people pouring out the ground, hear the first sirens, what happened? No one knows, someone says un Attentat, another a crazy person, definitely an evacuation. After moments of confusion, everyone starts walking, more marching, I think of a demonstration without a cause (like in this stupid Beyonce video). I arrive after thirty minutes.
On the bench outside the station I sat and waited.
I take out my book with a short story starting with:
On the bench outside the station I sat and waited.