Brussels
Brussels
3 coins
I could see the opaque skyline as my feet shuffled from the top of the stairs leading from the subway to the crowded, bustling streets of men and women repeating “bonjour” to each other too often, children cupping their hands in their parents’ as if to remind them that they are still there inconsistently shuffling their feet. Others stood, slanted on the brick walls containing advertisements of a woman’s naked breasts, every other moment inhaling from the end of an off-white cigarette, less than a second later exhaling a geometrically shaped, gray smoke into the already polluted air, followed by a flicking of the fingers as to knock off the ashes to the ground. The sidewalks were covered with dew from the night’s rain, feces from the pets that their owners let freely excrete on the surface of the solid, graffiti concrete ground, and a half clothed half ragged man holding out a McDonalds cup and mumbling words my ears yearned to understand but simply could not. “Monnaie! Monnaie!” I struggled to comprehend this French linguist while bearing the smells of cheap cigarettes and animal urine dancing into my nostrils. His hand constantly shook, barely holding the paper cup closely to my face that contained a mere three coins. I looked into his eyes that seemed to look back at me with a curiosity or maybe optimism, only seeing a haze of people walking past him due to his deficient eyesight. I could find no coins in my empty pockets, and if so would have let them remain. I continued to walk taking quick, short steps in order to keep up with my parents. The man, a stranger asking for money, again said a few words, berating me, possibly to express his anger.
3 coins
I could see the opaque skyline as my feet shuffled from the top of the stairs leading from the subway to the crowded, bustling streets of men and women repeating “bonjour” to each other too often, children cupping their hands in their parents’ as if to remind them that they are still there inconsistently shuffling their feet. Others stood, slanted on the brick walls containing advertisements of a woman’s naked breasts, every other moment inhaling from the end of an off-white cigarette, less than a second later exhaling a geometrically shaped, gray smoke into the already polluted air, followed by a flicking of the fingers as to knock off the ashes to the ground. The sidewalks were covered with dew from the night’s rain, feces from the pets that their owners let freely excrete on the surface of the solid, graffiti concrete ground, and a half clothed half ragged man holding out a McDonalds cup and mumbling words my ears yearned to understand but simply could not. “Monnaie! Monnaie!” I struggled to comprehend this French linguist while bearing the smells of cheap cigarettes and animal urine dancing into my nostrils. His hand constantly shook, barely holding the paper cup closely to my face that contained a mere three coins. I looked into his eyes that seemed to look back at me with a curiosity or maybe optimism, only seeing a haze of people walking past him due to his deficient eyesight. I could find no coins in my empty pockets, and if so would have let them remain. I continued to walk taking quick, short steps in order to keep up with my parents. The man, a stranger asking for money, again said a few words, berating me, possibly to express his anger.
posted by Jeffrey at
4:20 PM
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