As he had nothing specific to do that day Erik decided he would go out and simply wander around. He’d never done this before, and he felt a little self-conscious, but the idea of sauntering along observing things others missed, of simply drifting, appealed to him. Out on the street he found it harder than he had expected. His normal walking pace was quite brisk and slowing his stride to a dawdle took some practice. He got behind a couple who were ambling gently along and adjusted his speed to their leisurely step, though not without difficulty. So preoccupied was he with the problem of velocity that he barely noticed anything around him. People were looking at him oddly, he thought, though this may have been his imagination. He needed a place from which he could observe so he sat down at a table outside a café, where he ordered a coffee and, for additional emotional fortification, a slice of apple strudel with cream. The pavement was busy with shoppers and tourists. They were the usual people he’d expect to see, similarly dressed and generally doing much the same thing. The tourists posed for selfies in all the predictable places – the display of bedding plants in front of the municipal library across the street was a popular spot. He tried to remember what famous flanêurs had described in their writing. There were no beggars in sight, though there was a busker further up the street singing country and western, which was mildly annoying. The architecture around him was mostly modern, the history of the few older buildings unknown to him. He took out his notebook and scribbled down a few observations, then crossed them out. The coffee and pastry arrived and were excellent. He made them last as long as he could, watching people pass, customers enter and leave the café, a couple of scrawny pigeons foraging under the tables. He felt rather bored. Perhaps he should visit the Museum of Fine Art instead. There was an excellent restaurant there where he might have lunch.
Simon Collings
Picture Nick Victor