Scenes fromĀ Berlin
7:30 am,Ā November
And the ladies sit through the window of the Friseur with their hair in various stages of being coloured, snipped, and washed.
The glass dotted with spots of rain, portal to both the pre-dawn sky, and the daily shade of grey.
The S-bahn pauses a moment at Frankfurter Allee. Regurgitates a flood of passengers, all sizes, shapes, and colours. It is not a picky eater. Ist mir egal. (Theyāre all the same to me)
An instant of rest, before gulping in the next mouthful of city folk.
Inside the untended garden of attention, a few flowering minds unfold with books. Petals of a rare kind bloom in the backdrop of LCD displays and finger tapping.
A reassuring notion that this garden has not yet been overrun by electronic weeds.