Buddy on the Wavre Street (Brussels through the eyes of a zinneke)

Posted on 24/04/2015 by Katarina

Benetton and Graffitti

He ran away, used the rare occasion when he was not tied to the fence by an old greyish rope. The gate was open and he took the opportunity… So good, to feel the use of one´s limbs, to enjoy the speed and thud. He didn´t worry about food. When necessary, food would present itself in some form. He had lived tied up since his early days, having experienced a few short months of rolling happily in the grass and mud of the yard. Then – to protect poultry, to submit him – the rope was adjusted to his neck, but he was never adjusted to the rope.

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La calle nueva

Posted on 17/04/2015 by calev2

vue-neuve2

Hace cuatro días que vivo en el hotel. Tengo que comprar un cuaderno nuevo, o mejor más, porque solo me quedan algunas páginas en blanco por rellenar. Me vendría bien dejar estas cuatro paredes unas horas, sentir el sol tímido de diciembre que adivino brillando en el cielo esta tarde. Supongo que el trozo azul y sin nubes que veo sobre el patio no me engaña,pero a pesar de ello decido salir cuando haya oscurecido. Los días son cortos en diciembre, las tiendas están abiertas cuando ya es de noche y los dependientes quieren irse a casa. Podré comprarme los cuadernos sin que nadie repare en mí más de lo necesario.

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The Mall

Posted on 10/04/2015 by writingbrussels

The Mall

There is this mall that does not make sense.

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Brussels – remembered?

Posted on 05/04/2015 by markrowancropper

Gaufre

“But what would keep bringing back those images of that particular place, repeatedly, to my spirit?” she asked her co-counsellor, who sat facing her, clutching her hands in his.

“It is important that you hold on to those images, as long as you can”, he calmly replied. “You are aware by now that such remains of memory tell us when we have had a deep experience of some kind in our lives, an event, a happening, something that impressed us, that is trying to break through to our present consciousness.”

Until now, Brbr had recalled, in a vague, disordered way, the time she believed she had lived in an area of the north western European continent, which was then called Belgium. It was an urban setting, probably the city of Brx, then known as Brussels.

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Perdues a Ruisbroek ou le goût exquis des gâteaux de Starbucks

Posted on 27/03/2015 by writingbrussels

Cake Gare Central

— J’ai le temps de prendre un café ?

— D’accord, mais en vitesse, il faut pas rater le train.

Deux femmes se dirigent vers le Starbucks de la Gare Centrale. La blonde est si grande qu’on dirait qu´elle flotte dans le vent. Pourtant, elle marche d’un pas décidé. C’est elle qui connaît l’endroit et mène le jeu. À côté d’elle trotte la petite brune, quelque peu perdue dans cette gare qu’elle ne connaît pas. Vêtue d’un manteau visiblement trop grand, elle semble avoir pillé la garde-robe de sa sœur aînée. En réalité, c´est la grande blonde qui le lui a prêté pour cette journée qui risque d´être pluvieuse.

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