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Rated: · Short Story · Emotional · #1414441
something about the joy and beauty of life
Yesterday, Jens and I stood on my balcony smoking. He said, how nice it is to have children, to be close to their purity and enjoy their affection. And I remember answering that most of all I love watching proud fathers with their little children. Or did I just think that?

Suddenly, we looked down and saw a young couple crossing the street. The father was carrying a small child. The little boy was lying across his arms laughing. Then, his father put him down and ran. After several metres he stopped, turned back and hunkered down spreading his arms towards the child. The kid wondered a little and then, with a loud laugh, ran towards his father who caught him and held him up, slightly throwing him up and catching him again...

Today, I was having a half-an-hour break after two lectures at the university and I went to the "Coffee Culture" at the Bruhl to have some hot chocolate. It is a small cafe mostly visited by students. Opposite to it, there is a "Bagel Brothers". The street is just three minutes walk from the train station and it is very crowdy. People, cars, bicycles. I love this street which used to be the "Jewish fur trade street" once...

I sat outside with my paper cup of chocolate and smoked. It was rush hour. Students, dressed in all colours, were dashing pass me on their coloured bicycles and you could see the side wall of the Marriott hotel with that strange painting on it which is a mixture of Hundertwasser and some schoolboy picture.

I-Pod in my ears and a book by Ustinov in my hands, I was watching the people in the street. The book was from Jens. Several minutes later, I noticed that someone was going to sit down at a table beside me. It was a young man. He was dressed in a sport jacket of blue, jeans and hiking boots, just like most Germans dress. Beside him was a small buggy of blue. For a moment, I thought I should throw away my cigarette, but the joy stopped me.

I saw a muffin, a croissant and a coffee cup on his table. It looked quite aesthetical. The baby was quiet, and so the man took out a diary from his sport bag and started to write something with a thin blue pen. He was writing down his thoughts... I smiled and the sun smiled back...

After I finished my cigarette, he took the baby out of the buggy and held it in his arms, continuing to write. It was a moment I tried to keep in my mind till I come home and write it down.

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