Paris Window


I got off at Gare du Nord. The station was packed. People were hurrying in all directions and I couldn’t find out which way to go. I followed the stream of people who also got off the train hoping it would take me to the stations main entrance. That was where we had agreed to meet. I was carried by the flow towards a big escalator and as I got on and went up I could hear a loud echoing noise from hundreds of people coming from the top. Like the background noise from the cheering fans when you watch a football match on tv. When I reached the top more people were coming in my direction heading for the station platforms, sticking their tickets into the mechanical gates and hurrying on. Their faces looked dead and pale and probably mine did too if I had seen myself. Everything was very loud and for a second I stopped and looked up. I was pretty sure I was standing in the main hall. It was a big glass cube and on the other side of the glass you could see the night sky and if you looked over the heads of the masses of people you could see the streets and their lit up cafés. I couldn’t keep on looking around anymore. I had to find the entrance. That was where she had agreed to meet with me. That was where I would see her again for the first time. For the last time.

It was when I finally figured out where the entrance to the glass cube was, that I noticed my heart was making double beats. There was a small point in the distance where people seemed to be coming from. I was sweating like a pig and as I found my way through the masses, pushing and twisting, heading upstream, I was met by a cold breeze which was coming through the entrance door. It felt nice, but nevertheless I knew, that at any moment I would see her. My eyes were racing around. I couldn’t see anyone who looked distinctly like her on the square. Some people were standing still, some were moving and some stood with others and the whole situation was suddenly getting me quite anxious of the fact, that she could possibly have burnt me off. Maybe she had without further consideration decided not to show up because she didn’t feel like it, or maybe she liked someone else, I don’t know, but in the middle of my own inner conversation, that was when I saw her and for a moment I felt truly happy.

She stood in the middle of the moving crowds of people at the far end of the piazza. She was dark and delicate, with a certain glow in her face, and when our eyes met, she made a small smile with the side of her mouth, looked down, and then into my eyes again. I went over to her and we hugged.
“What took you so long?”
“Yeah, the plane was delayed and then I couldn’t find out where to find a ticket and all and...”
“It’s fine, let’s go”