Moments…
A beggar raises his dirty hands into the air. A man just looks at a woman who’s laughing into the mobile phone. A woman throws a coin into the beggars hands. The beggar laughs. The woman shrugs and walks away.
Far across the street, a man shouts to his wailing child who’s holding onto his mother’s pants. The mother’s holding onto her crumbled purse. She looks vexed.
The street’s filled with cars. Traffic fixed. Movement none. Noise! Smoke! Heat!
A woman stands beside a pillar, trying on a smile, with droplets of sweat forming on her upper lip as she hands over fliers to the passerby who do not or pretend not to see her.
A blind beggar walks along the pavement filled with people and motorbikes, a rather tiny yet loud music box and an aluminum coffer dangling by his neck. He blinks his sightless eyes and sings a tuneless song. Surprisingly, he never walks into poles or the speeding motorbikes.
Everyone seems to be busy. They come from somewhere. They go somewhere…
Do they realise they live? Do they know they must die? They must! Yes, they must!
August 7, 2007 at 10:57 pm
I wonder too–do they know that must die–they ought to.