Cream pie


…The ever increasing heat found its way again on the streets of the city. Thursday morning and only the thought of the weekend in my head. I just came out of the Tribunal a couple of minutes ago. I look around. Calm day we’re having today. Everyone is kind to me, the work isn’t that awful. On Deak Ferenc Street the workings heavily go on. A new pedestrian square for the inhabitants of the city…I sit down in front of a shop window. In my hands today’s breakfast and lunch. A sandwich… They overstuffed it again, the mayonnaise sparkles on my fingers and on the edge of the snitzel a slice of cucumber wickedly looks at me, jumps into the deep and falls on the ground… Sitting down for a moment, just to look around… Three bored workers in front of me waiting for noon. Pickaxes once again tear apart the brand new pavement. It doesn’t surprise me anymore. The skinniest of them all is heavily fighting a battle with the stubborn soil. His mates, resting on their shovels reassure him. The works go on in the city, especially in this summer heat… “Enjoy your meal” I hear the voice of a passerby. “Thanks”. I don’t know him, but it was a good feeling that he noticed. A simple bon apetite and a smile rushes through my face… A slender and attractive young mother is pushing her baby carriage. A pale blouse and a fluttering summer skirt. Her slim arms pushing the carriage from which a smiley baby looks at me. Who knows how frightened he must’ve been. A guy full of mayonnaise and unshaved for days is not the prettiest sight for a baby. I just turn my head to the right and what do I see? An incredible battle. A poor fat old guy wrestling with two naughty slices of cream pie. What a fight. With his paws he grabs the cream pies writing their last will. But the pies don’t give up the fight that easily. One of them stands up. It messes up his fingers and ugly face. But it cannot hold it on for long and falls victim to the new dentures. They crush it up. A swallow, and the poor slice of pie plunders into the deep stomach….Now it’s the other’s turn. But this one fights like hell. It swings to the right and to the left and falls back on the napkin. The old guy grabs it again and pushes his dagger like fingers into the back of the pie! But it doesn’t give up that easily! Taking a piece of cream it messes up the fat guy’s nose. A bite and it slides back on the napkin. The battle is almost lost. The yellow claws inflict more and more damage, a final bite, a swallow and our brave warrior is gone… Poor grandpa, he probably learned table manners from a heard of piglets. Cream flowed down his hands and under his eyebrows bundles of whipped cream decorated his wrinkled face. People all around him were staring but he didn’t notice them. He licked his hands. A tissue, a couple of wipes and the last remains of the two warriors were forever gone. A girl passes him. She smiles and struggles two hold back her laughter but sees me as I was laughing at the old guy. She smiles at me and walks away. I wipe my hands. The snitzel had found his home for a long time. With great effort I get up. Clean the dust of my trousers and head to the bus-station

Kolozsvár (Cluj-Napoca) 16th of august 2007

 

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