The streets here are like nowhere else: almost all of them have two names. You can be in one place and say that you are in another, and still be telling the truth. That is one of the many intrigues of bilingualism: ubiquity. The city itself has two names. Or is it three now? Regardless of the language, the dark streets under the lonely moon still see you, follow you, question you. No matter how hard you try to blend in, no matter how fast you walk, no matter how high the volume of your mp3 player. They’ve seen it all: they were here before you were born. And they were born here, unlike you.
The lovely streets. Olivier Gbezera. Ur novellsamlingen The Meantime-nine short stories from Brussels Utgiven 2012.