Thursday, May 21, 2009

The Village

The apartment building spanned from one avenue to the next. We were a tiny rooftop party in its midst. Like a little rowboat keeping out of the way of an ocean liner.

Bernard looked at it. "It's probably the same size as a village." Since he is French, and France has villages, I assumed he was right.

We watched the flickering lights of the TVs. From afar it looked like blinking lights of a massive computer.

I took another picture. "They think their homes are unique and exclusive but really they're just boxes."

Since I grew up here amongs sprawling apartment buildings of boxes piled on top of one another, Bernard assumed I was right.

We continued to wait for Jacques, watch the soccer club mug for pictures and count how many TVs were being turned off and on.