Protected by a gazebo in the park, it is snowing and the park looks calm.
A few days ago a storm, and trees had been uprooted, a skeleton was
found, probably of a bishop as the park is near the church and used to be
a cemetery for the rich and mighty. The bones will be tested to see how
old they are. Odd isn’t, these bones are usually of men. What happened
to the women? Buried in marshland? Not worthy to rest amongst rulers.
It is almost noon, soon men in dark overcoats will come, they have been to
the wine-monopoly and bought booze, as they have nowhere else to go,
they will find a park bench and drink. There will be arguments, fights will
break out and the police will come and arrest some. What an odd society;
be conventional is the exhortation those who cannot end up in the park.
It has stopped snowing and so city noises are louder. I look at my watch
its noon, time to find a place for lunch; I’ll drink a bottle of wine with my
meat cakes and boiled potatoes, and leave the men in the park in peace.