The old man leaving the bar, shrugging on his jacket like a well worn friend, I’ve seen him before, although he looks a little thinner than I remember. A wave of grey hair the Santana moustache his three piece suit, distinguished in this run down neighbourhood. A woman sitting outside, sipping beer straight from the bottle, says to him “eh! Que tal?” “You look thinner” I suppose we all get thinner as we all get on, thinner and thinner till we’re almost transparent and all our histories can be seen, lingering behind us like a line of dreams. On the corner, a gypsy is playing Spanish music on a Yamaha keyboard, I don’t know if he’s really playing or just moving his hands He asks for coins from everyone sitting around eating tapas, so we don’t get too thin. and I think how all our lives are just as weak as my cup of cheap tea.
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I enjoyed this great little tale of daily life in your little town .We see people we know and then one day they have changed ...or worse still ,died .It's what happens ...the way of the world .We don't see ourselves but we guage the slow decline in others .Getting thinner ,getting greyer ,weaker .
Weak tea too!
Nice little Spanish town story Marc .
When I go out in my little Italian town I always say hello to the old people ....they smile and wave .Just in case we won't say "buongiorno " the day after .
So evocative! Touched my transparent heart ❤