Monday, May 12, 2003

the key to his heart

he stumbles into the streetcar, and sidles, muttering, into the seat closest to the exit. he cannot sit still.
at every stop, he shudders forward, two, maybe three steps at a time, calling, plaintively: "jessica!"
no-one reacts.
"jessica!" he cries again. he is halfway to the front now.
eyes, hearts and minds are locked firmly into the way things are supposed to be. a nuisance, even a harmless one, is a nuisance. no attention is paid.
there are televisions on the newest trams. tripping, he reaches his vantage-point, and gazes up at the screen, grasping the loop, adoring, very loudly, the buxom game-show hostess.
as the damrak creeps by, and central station unfolds into view, he applauds.
everyone, breathing a sigh of embarrassed relief, allows him to descend first into the morning madness of the square.
jessica, simpering, comforts the losers.

1 comment:

  1. Just love this photo... maybe because of the contrast between the bolt and lock. Nice work!