And so, he was early to eat and sat alone amongst the tables. He watched the waiter wind between the empty seats carrying his order from the far side of the room. A knife and fork came wrapped in the same low-grade paper stuffed into the holder he had pushed aside in anticipation. He was hungry and could not wait for the late dinner-time more common in these parts; a decision that appeared to have caught the staff and the kitchen cold. They were certainly frosty on seeing him walk through the door so early in the night despite the heat that was still teeming from the stones beneath their feet. The city was only coming alive as darkness closed in above the streetlights. He had been walking all day in slivers of shadow and hopping between islands of shade like a mad dog. And so, he was hungry now and early to eat and happily ate alone amongst the tables and the bored waiters and the cold kitchen staff.
He had found a corner cafe half-way into the center, sitting just off Gran Via where the city began to fall gently towards Puerta Del Sol. He was sat by an open window just above street level and watched as the city’s veins and arteries filled with the footsteps and laughter and excitement of its people. All of whom appeared to be draining into the square, following the contours like marbles in a funnel.
Fed and watered he settled the bill and followed on slowly into the heart; ambling on tired feet down into its thrumming core. He could feel it beat as he approached. Until suddenly he spilled into its vast chamber and spun loose amongst the musicians and street sellers and ice cream eaters and evening lovers and thieves and prostitutes and peace keepers and destitutes and dancers in the night swinging amber shapes in the brass plates of the band and clapping in time and cheering the ending and the beginning of every uplifting song that bounced between their smiles and their looks and their anticipation of the night that lay ahead of them down any of the streets that led away from this place.
And so, he followed on down the next street he found and moved away into the night.
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A Walk In Madrid