Internal Dialogue

A lonely streak of light briefly pierces through the thick cloud cover. Monday morning, Steenweg, Utrecht. I reflect on my expectation that most stores would be closed on Monday (shouldn’t they be?), but quickly forget about it as a group of Japanese tourists pass me in opposite direction. Someone on a bike traverses the narrow gaps between the groups of people, and I wonder how this Monday morning and oh-so typically Dutch scene must look to the tourists that just passed me. Another Japanese girl passes, staring at a folded up map that’s in her hands. She looks forward and walks a little faster in order catch up with her fellow travelers.

Exactly on the same moment that I turn left to walk towards Selexyz Broese I hear someone tell someone else to “go left”. I ignore them and continue on my path. Once inside the bookshop, I head for my usual corner (English Sci-Fi & Fantasy). Although the streets felt like Monday, it’s hard to pin the activity in the store to a certain day of the week. It’s confusing: outside it feels awkward, like there’s something wrong. It feels silent – almost barren – even though there are more then enough people. But inside, it’s business as usual. Except for a strange encounter with a confused lady who informed me that she passed me and left her bag-on-wheels behind me because that wouldn’t fit. And that I shouldn’t think that said bag-on-wheels (which I’m obviously well aware of at this point) has been left behind and belongs to her.

After making my choices I head for the checkout counters. A cashier leans forward to make me aware of the fact that she’s available. Apparently everyone else prefers to stand in line at the other counters. Back outside I once again turn to look at the sky. It’s the kind of day on which, even though the world is colored in various shades of grey, you wouldn’t be surprised if it never rained. But if it did, you would immediatly think it was bound to happen anyway.

I decide to take the bus home since I probably won’t make it to the furthest railway platform in time to catch my train. It’s not even 14:00 yet, but I’m surprised to find a large crowd waiting for the same bus as me. When it arrives and everyone has entered, there’s a situation in front and some girl is handed over to people in orange vests who help her out. They spoke too silently for me to hear what exactly was going on, but perhaps she fainted. Or perhaps this person didn’t pay and refused to get out. But who even cares.

Once the bus leaves the station I wonder why it’s so full on this time of day. Perhaps it’s always like this and I just never noticed before, simply because I don’t often travel through the city in the middle of the day. Someone in my vicinity makes a phone call and explains to the person on the other end of the line that she’s out early because a class got cancelled. But again, who even cares.

This day was awkward, grey, strange, and uneventful. But even though I would like to believe it does, this had probably has nothing to do with the fact that this was the first day after summer.