I lost my way in this big town. It’s misty and almost night.
I left behind the blocks and walked down a street bordered by two-storied houses, split in the middle by a tram railway. I slow down my steps and look around. It looks so familiar.
In front of me there is a store. I read on the sign “the store of my neighbourhood”.
Nice name. I go past the store and stop at a tram station. I ask a passer-by which tram circulates there- the tram of my neighbourhood he says.
I walk further. I see people on street. I buy a paper from a child. Read Sir, don’t miss the news, read the paper of my neighbourhood!
I ask the child- who are these people–These people? They are the people of my neighbourhood Sir.
The street ends in a field full of weeds. I glimpse some metallic scaffolding, maybe the remnants of an old factory.
There is no way out. It’s getting late. An old man with an umbrella who was walking on my footsteps from some time gets closer and asks me with a high-pitched voice –where does this field end Sir? I lost my way.
I shrug my shoulders , then light a cigarette, smile and say:
In my neighourhood, Sir.