The area I knew like the back of my hand. The pave stones I would pound both a.m and p.m. The familiarity and feeling of safety. I knew exactly where I was. The corner I would turn at the bottom of the hill and wave bleary eyed to Jen or Emily on the tram. Passing the lady at who worked at 7 Eleven, smiling we exchange a neighbourly communication. Though we didn't understand each other, the warmth of her nature made her feel like an old friend. I suppose that's what I thought I would miss in a big city, that impromptu conversation in the supermarket or a sense of feeling at home in such a contrasting environment. The same man I would see in exactly the same spot during my amble to work, I would spot his beaming smile approaching. He clutched a woven shopping bag, he would raise his eyebrows and purse his lips as he passed. Each familiar face would landmark my way, bringing me closer to the new day. The man working at the light bulb shop would look me straight in the eye as I neared. His stare was cold and emotionless, always in the same place at the same time with the same slumped disposition. His face sombre unawakened. Sometimes I'd see Jen or Lucia dotted in amongst the sea of heads. I'd pounce and we'd laugh. Pass the stall selling claws and feet. Grab a croissant and say "jo san" to the porter. The lift would ping at floor 3, a fresh day had begun.
No comments:
Post a Comment