Day 719


Here, one bus goes every hour and that’s good enough.
There, 20 buses go in one hour and that’s not good enough.

Here, if a shop is closed, someone will tell you which door to knock on to get what you want even if they don’t speak your language.
There, no one knows and no one cares.

Here, the air is so clean, it feels like inhaling freshness right to the tips of my toes and fingers.
There, I breathe smoke and dust, less air.

Here the sun shines generously all day long.
There it is often hidden by strange expanding aircraft trails.

Here people walk and talk and laugh.
There they rush around, avoid contact of any kind and laugh only while interacting with an electronic gadget.

Here, time is in abundance.
There it’s gone before you know it.

Here, we can feast for 12 quid.
There it buys a modest take-away lunch.

Here is all about simplicity.
There is all about exclusivity.

Here is a poor, infamous, much maligned cousin of There.

After a few days here, we are on our way back there.
I am done with There.
I think I would like to live somewhere like here.

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