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MAGAZINE - JUNE 2012
the face of someone who came
from far away, from another land.
His clothes gave him away.
Certainly it was the book she had
just read, or the one that she had
paid for a couple of minutes ago,
that made her aware in front of the
image which that man reflected in
her mind. In a moment a thousand
ideas crossed her mind which
wove a probable story about the
stranger who fed pigeons.
Against all that sanity and com-
mon sense dictated, she decided
that she had to know that man,
talk to him, know him well, and
closely identify herself with what a
million books wouldn’t be able to
transmit.
She wanted to listen to his story
with all that gestures, looks, body
posture and voice inflections are
able to tell without words, she
wanted to go where words could
not reach because they have not
yet been invented.
She came up with a strategy. She
bought a package of cookies in
a street stand that was in a cor-
ner. She approached the man,
and as she sat beside him, she
also began to feed the pigeons
by breaking the cookies that she
had bought into small pieces and
throwing them to the birds.
The trick worked, the stranger
raised his eyes and, almost staring
at her out of the corner of his eyes,
gave a hint of a smile.
It was everything that Ethel need-
ed.
She made a comment about how
happy it made her to feed the pi-
geons. She knew she was telling a
blatant lie since it was the first time
in her life she sat on a park bench
to feed them, but she acquitted
herself, justifying the fact with the
idea that their conversation would
give the man a moment of distrac-
tion.
He responded to her comment
with a short phrase, though long
enough to reveal his foreign origin.
It was obvious that the language
he spoke was not his native lan-
guage.
Ethel was pleased with her own
deductions: the man was a genu-