The whole world

In our imagination, life is often simple. There are days, there are nights. There is poverty, there is wealth. There are living people, there are dead people.

      Nonetheless, the man in front of Marks & Spencer seems neither dead nor alive. While he is holding up his hand, asking for money, his pale skin glistens like cheap porcelain in the artificial light of the bright shop windows. A cap is on his head like an abandoned bird's nest.

      It is half past five in the afternoon. These are the obscure days before Christmas. The streets are decorated with tiny LED lights, plastic Christmas twigs, cardboard images of chubby Santas. The streets are populated by businessmen young mothers and excited teenagers.

      The beggar is standing just in front of Marks & Spencer. The icy cold wind blows his wild gray hair against his face. That's maybe the reason he doesn't notice Ezekiel who passes him in a great hurry. There's only a brittle sound seeping from the scrawny lips of the wanderer.

       "Dooyouhavesummoneyfohmee... ..."

      Ezekiel  comes to a standstill. Like he is a pawn on a chess board. Like a mighty Player is holding him tight but is still unsure about where to place the piece.

      The beggar, realizes Ezekiel all of a sudden, he knows this man. It's Daniel. And suddenly Ezekiel is not anymore late in his forties, he is no longer a teacher of Economics at the local high school, he is not a father of three sons. He is a student in his early twenties.

     The place where he is: a messy bar in a crowded industrial town.  A group of students is meeting each other. In the middle of the troop a young man standing. Dark hair, soft eyes, white teeth, solid words. His name is Daniel. And when he starts to talk, everyone cannot but listen. Like he's reciting poems, reading stories. Even the bartender stands beside the bar stools and listens intensely.

      Daniel. You could laugh with him, cry with him. When he was around, life was so fresh and tangible like wild mangoes, existence was so sparkling and present as spring water. Daniel comforted you when you were sad, he gave you insight when life turned out to be fuzzy. And in all discussions, conversations, arguments, he kept on stressing. We don't belong to a system, a constitution.

     Do not copy. Try to stay original. Keep thinking.

     Ezekiel awakes from his daydreaming.  There's that sound of a brass band crossing the square. Men, women, girls and boys all in playful red-blackish uniforms. They play.

     He's got the whole world in his hand.

      And funnily enough, that mix of enthusiastic sounds, that blend of cornets, horns, trombones and snare drums covers the streets in a warm glow. The businessmen, young mothers, teenagers and elderly people, they start listen, to stare.

      Even the icy wind is holding her breath. If she doesn't want to disturb the scene.

      The group of musicians disappear into a side street. Ezekiel listens how the music dies out.

     Only for half of a second, he fancies: is this my life?

     Then the wind starts to blow against Ezekiel's bare forehead. He resumes his task. He enters the store and buys a box of candles, paper napkins and  a bottle of wine. When he leaves the shop, Daniel is gone. Like sometimes in the middle of the night,  a nagging headache has receded.

       In the sky, the first stars appear. A full moon is paste next to them. Like a big white eye.

       Ezekiel quickens his pace. He knows he is being watched. But he also knows that this threat will disappear the moment he feels the warmth of his wife's lips, the softness of his children's hands.

      That evening he is happy. Happy as a truncated tropical bird in an open cage.