Glimpses

Today I walked outside into the cool autumn air.  The sky was blue and there were thin wisps of clouds sailing by overhead.

There is a guy who lives on our floor by the stairs.  Occasionally he’s sitting on a chair outside his door, enjoying a cigarette and a cup of coffee.  We always exchange, “hallo’s.”  He never smiles.

There’s a gumball machine by the front door of the little corner store down the block from our apartment.  I’ve never seen anyone use it.

Sometimes when I’m walking through the city I try to guess if people speak English as their native language, just by looking at  them.

Being here has been difficult at times, but it has helped me straighten some things out in my head in a way in which I can’t quite explain.

The Christmas lights along Andrassy Utca are on now and it makes the city seem more warm and inviting.  It’s getting cold here, but it doesn’t feel like it.  Not having to deal with the wind makes the temperature deceiving.

The streets are narrow and I feel like I’m always in the shade.  That’s not a metaphor.

The lady in the apartment next to ours is listening to opera music and doing a fair job at singing along, although at a considerably lower octave.

The city is still not familiar to me, but I don’t feel lost here anymore.