Lazare
I live in a cardboard box in the sewers of the Gare St.-Lazare.
It's no big deal. I'm used to it and once in a while, when the nights are cold, you can find a pretty warm place in the secret tunnels under the metro lines. It can be pretty cozy, with people lighting candles, playing 78 tours records on old wind up grammophones.
A week ago I found an amazing, extra large empty box on the street. The real thing: airy, heavy, robust cardboard with a soft upper layer. It read "Office supplies" in red capitals. I've been sleeping well lately, but I can't help focussing on the big office buildings with their frustrating mirrors sending you flickering beams of sunlight saying "you can't get in". Who works there? What are they doing? And why?
It's no big deal. I'm used to it and once in a while, when the nights are cold, you can find a pretty warm place in the secret tunnels under the metro lines. It can be pretty cozy, with people lighting candles, playing 78 tours records on old wind up grammophones.
A week ago I found an amazing, extra large empty box on the street. The real thing: airy, heavy, robust cardboard with a soft upper layer. It read "Office supplies" in red capitals. I've been sleeping well lately, but I can't help focussing on the big office buildings with their frustrating mirrors sending you flickering beams of sunlight saying "you can't get in". Who works there? What are they doing? And why?
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