Rafał Zabratyński

Banana Latte

One Monday morning in November.
I park the car near the building where I work.
Time to finish the coffee bought at the petrol station.
I take a gulp.
The driver of a familiar van gets out of it and goes exactly in the same direction as one week ago.
Another sip.
A blond woman walks her husky just in the same direction as last week.
The last drop.
A blind man taps his way along the pavement precisely in the same direction as in the previous week.
The distinct banana aftertaste lingers on.

pet shop
the (un)limited space
inside a parrot cage