The place where he used to live is now empty.
This is good news.
The place where he used to sit is empty. He doesn't live there anymore.
I walk by his corner all the time now just to witness the lack of him. It's beautiful. Warms my heart.
A street corner. Red brick building holding the pavement in place. His behind not warming it anymore. The pavement. Beautiful. The lack of warmth warms me.
It sways, you know.
When you have to sit there.
Makes you nauseous.
Buildings closing in on you.
On you like they did on him.
On him like they would on you.
You are one and the same, you know.
One in the same.
Though two totally different people.
Yet he might as well be you and you he.
Don't think that his shift away from that corner is any easier than yours towards it would be. Swoosh! And there you are.
You holding the pavement in place as the buildings sway and spin over head. As you feel nauseous and oh so very, very hungry. But no worries, for the place is empty now. This is good news. Good news indeed. In deed.
Or did your mum make you think you were different? Did she teach you how to walk around him and avoid him? Not look down? ‘Look up and straight ahead, honey' and the pavement won't spin. Won't make you nauseous. Won't make you hungry. You are different, honey; just keep your head up.
Did your dad a give you a coin to flip into his cup when he was in a good mood? ‘Here, son … go do a good deed'. Indeed! A nickel in his cup. Fill it with nothing as you fill yourself with the goodness of you. Yourself. Different. ‘Straight ahead, honey'. Around and avoid. Different.
And yet here you sit reading his words.
Me and you. You and me. Not so different.
Different and still the same.
The place is empty indeed.
same theme, different place:
The Biker and the Begger, India
words: Cathrine Lødøen, Norway (snapshots)
photo: Steve Wing, Florida (sand shadow)