third monday

Monday, 20th of January, two thousand and twenty

The cafeteria at work is elevated, there is

a view over the park in the centre of the campus.

There are two long roads; two avenues that

converge at right angles in front of the

windows.

Every time the underground railway armies

at the station in the centre of the park, there

is an eruption of people, groups of students

heading to Their neat lecture. Because it is

cold, they are all in their dark winter

clothing. even though the grass is still green

There is a bite in the air hinting at the

whiteness of winter.

But there is no snow

In the distance, another group of students

has left the underground station, and is using

the zebra crossing to cross the tree-lined

avenue there. There are others on bicycles,

and some in cars using that road. They

have to stop and wait until the group has

crossed the road.

And it is a miserable cold grey day.

Listen to the cafe's
proprietor complain over

the lack of custom, a lack of custom that

has held from The first to this third Monday of

the year