Sitting in Piazza Santo Spirito watching people. A small market nearby invites people to look at the merchandise while making small talk. I feel like an ant standing still in a constantly moving colony. A beggar approaches and asks for a cigarette. I have none; he walks away. An old couple holding hands smile at me while passing by. Birds are circling my table, the leaves of the trees are singing their own music. Everything is moving, speaking, telling a story. I sit perfectly still with my cappuccino cup in one hand, listening, watching. I wonder if they notice.
After a week of rain and grayish sky, the sun has finally come out to play. Maybe it heard my prayers and decided to indulge my wishes.
People around me are moving faster now. Tourists are taking pictures and rush to another square or monument. The bartender from the bar across the street hurries to wipe away any sign of this morning’s rain. People on bikes speed blindly through the square as if they want no memory of passing through here. Two lovers enjoy their coffee, each with a phone in their hands, typing frantically, avoiding to look into each other’s eyes. Love is weird. The world is weird. Or, maybe…
I am the only one sitting in silence. I enjoy watching them dance without any desire to join in. I am an outsider, a small audience of their life’s movie. But one hour from now, a day from now, I will be a moving ant too, a living, breathing image for someone else to analyze. Are you watching?