(still!) Thurs. 29th May
Tired and happy, on the metro on the way back to the hostel; a youth, sitting opposite me. My first thought (due mainly to astounding girth of trunk-like legs) was ‘shame, he’s caught America’. Very short, seriously gelled hair, t-shirt proclaiming allegiance to some brand or other, listening to music on his mobile phone.
Then he gets off. As well as the trendy satchel over the shoulder he also picks up the rather lovely, old-fashioned wicker basket that had been on the seat between him and the middle-aged lady I had assumed was it’s owner. The basket is about 18 inches across, and about as deep, and as he leaves the train I can see that it appears to be completely full of cherries. A good few pounds of them, ripe, shiny and tempting.
I am, somehow, obscurely comforted. It’s good to be wrong sometimes…or even quite often.