As soon as I had finished grocery shopping I considered my spectrum of options. One should always try to be quite keenly aware of ones possibilities, otherwise free choice and will power become the sham democracies and dictatorships would wish them to be. With this dictum in mind, I considered my options: A) return home by braving the below-zero temperatures immediately [and do what?] B) Go back to the office and finish the task I had started [looking for a decent expert on contemporary Kenyan visual art] C) go back into the swarming mass of the store and buy the items I had forgotten to buy [fucking stupid] or D) go for a coffee in the bakery across the street. Daytime bakeries are infamous for being old peoples’ places but as the screwball swizz saying goes “You cannot win all the time”.
The street between the grocery store and the coffee house is reserved for pedestrians. Even during weekdays’ diurnal hours it is always packed as though the secret truth of our city is that nobody has a steady job to attend to. Or that it is always enough many people’s day off to keep the downtown streets buzzing. […]
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