Fountain

As summer came around, more and more people started congregating at the fountain.
Some of them are with dogs, well, those they need to.
Can’t expect the pets to pee in the apartments no?

The rest just sat around, there’s plenty of benches, tables with chairs. With books, they sit there with coffee on the table and a book in hand.
There is one with a weird keyboard contraption on his tablet.
Near the late part of summer, they started having plays at the fountain.
Plays, Shakespearean plays.

They have the costumes, they have the language, they have the grammar.

They have audience participation too. One of the actors came to the person at the front, and said “You are too young and too nice to bear the child of my blood, but thank you for offering”. I think... that's a complement?

It’s the commitment that impresses really. There is no stage, there is no place to hide, no curtains. The only place for refuge is a little tent that they have setup for costume changes or touch ups. Every movement, even not as the centre of the attention, is in character.

In that sense, grabbing the audience attention is also difficult. With no stage, there isn’t a centralized place to look towards. Attention is attracted by either the sound that starts the scene, or just straight up vocal volume. It’s great.

Initially just walking past the fountain, he stopped one day when he heard a busker sing. She sang well, he stopped... and sat down nearby.

In that moment, with the sun shining down through the shade. He heard this song for the first time.
“Bülow - Two Punks In Love”
She delivered it beautifully. He makes a mental note to download it later.

He went back every Saturday from that point on, sometimes he would be late, sometimes he would catch the last of the songs. He would sit there, and then enjoy the sun, enjoy the dogs that pass by, enjoy the breeze that comes through. Either listening to the busker, or listening to his songs on the phone.

Perhaps more importantly, enjoying the peacefulness.