Early mornings

Slightly dusted. Like a book hidden in a back raw of the library, a book you haven’t reached out to for quite some time. So you need to wipe of the dust; a mere blow would do. Then, you can begin the rediscovery,

It’s familiar, you feel you’ve been here before. Small terraces at street corners, where you can stop for a coffee or beer, at any time of the day. With the corner of my eyes, I see only one or two people sitting, while closing the green wooden door of my house early mornings. Every morning I want to turn to the direction of the coffee house on the corner… yet I turn into the opposite direction. The paved sidewalk under my feet, very cold early morning air, soon the smell of hot pastries and coffee, just on the corner of another small street along my way. I love walking in this cold air; it’s terribly refreshing. You’d say people would be shriveling; they are not, not at all, and the view of fluffy skirts and scarves, white shirts and ties, is revitalizing. Bikes, small flower shops, my hot croissant au chocolat, the windows of the bakeries, oh, so terribly tempting… the trams, running slowly. The old cathedral in the middle of the old paved square, the roundabout where I turn right to pass by the decorations shop, the books store next to it and immediately after the one that sells wooden toys of lively colours. This is my neighbourhood, in the early mornings air.

I wipe of the dust from my boot; don’t know why I do that. And I walk on, rediscovering Brussels.