While back I came to the Hema. In the coffee shop, while I was waiting for my order, I saw a man wearing an alpine cap.
You would say nothing special. Especially in “La France” and of course also here because an alpine cap is a fairly common headgear.
What was it then that had caught my attention?
His way of moving.
With those very small steps, but also really very small shuffle steps. If the steps were even smaller, he would back up. In fact, If ya wouldn’t know any better it looked like he was “marching on his place ” and I am sorry cos I know it is ill-mannered, but I couldn’t help it, just had to keep watching him shuffle the short distance. The moment seemed to last for minutes, but was actually shorter, of course. Our eyes met, interlocked. He looked at me a little nervous, unhappy with a look like “yes, I can’t help it either”. Then the moment was over and I looked at something else to be polite.
Now I also shuffle and that went gradually. It is, forgives me, the imagery, a sliding scale. It started with slipping and tripping and now I’ve been catching myself lately and I’m a shuffler too. Unless I’m paying attention, of course.
Now and then I am afraid that I will move like this without realizing it. That I slide further and further and saw my foreland in that man in the Hema.
But I’m not going to wear an alpine cap, I refuse that