A bright September morning, and I'm at the roundabout Albert Leemans again for the first time in ages. All of the dilapidated benches have been replaced and there is no sign of the burly man who made on bench his home for most of April, May and June. The woman with the little white dog was there, though. It would take much more than a burly homeless man to budge those two. In the turf wars of last spring, coward that I am, I abdicated almost right away. I became the benchless one, with no where to go for my morning coffee and 15 minutes of mind-peace, and left one (elderly) woman and her pet to defy the interloper. I pretty much don't even have a right to be here, do I? Next time I will ask her how she managed it.
It takes me 9 minutes from the bench at Albert Leemans to the tram stop to get to the office. Sometimes all I have time for is 5 minutes.
Sometimes I feel more alive during those 5 minutes than I do for the rest of the day.