you’ve had a terrible night.
you’ve lost everything you thought you had.
it’s now 11.32 and you wake up in your office room – still in yesterday’s clothes and without a toothbrush or soap in the toilet.
you stare at the window and at the empty grey sky beyond.
and you start seeing yourself as a child.
small round face with rosy cheeks and a halo of dark brown curls
happily pedaling your brand new mini tri-cyle around the backyard of your parents’ first house while they happily watched you
somehow you knew that only your strings of laughter could remind them of how wonderful the world was
it was just as simple as that
your mobile phone beeps and its screen blinks “new message”.
you see your incredibly tidy desk.
you see your shiny black shoes.
you see your name engraved with silver ink on a polished black plate.
you know that you’ve never had that kind of childhood.
but the child in your window never stops smiling
and you know he knows that smile only could remind you of how wonderful the world is
somehow you feel like the only thing that you’d want to do now is give him a hug
it seems so fuckin’ simple
barnton street, 22 october 2005
