I am standing at the window in my bedroom, the room we used to share with Betty for more than twenty years. The Atomium, the Brussels re-discovered icon, is glistening in the spring morning sun outside the window. It is supposed to be the Eiffel tower of the town, just it is, of course, not. As cities are nowadays becoming open-air theatres, any object, statue, building can become an attraction point. With clever marketing, anything goes. Betty and I, we used to take our visitors there occasionally: buying tickets downstairs (I was always appalled by the senselessness and a waste of money), then a queue to the elevators, then being trapped in the huge atom pattern, visiting the spheres that had not much to display. A stunning view from above on all over the town. Only, I am afraid of heights. Afraid and attracted, as it goes. You could never jump out, the security precautions would not allow that, but still, the imagination is strong, the pull of the vast space, the calling of the naughty Wind Spirit laughing loud: “Do not worry. Jump, François, jump. Fly into eternity!” Continue reading
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