Thoughts follow strange mechanisms.
We strolled at random over the centre of Bruxelles, in an out of tune symphony of rain, wind and sparkles of sunshine.
My interest, as always was directed to people, I like common people I cross, I like imagining for a second their stories, their destinations, their thoughts.
Then some details speak directly to me and I can simply listen to them.
I read some years ago a novel set in Holland, called “The Girls with the Pearl Earring” , I’m not sure if this is the exact title, I’m quoting by heart, out from the confuse fog of my memory.
It was a fiction based on the Dutch painter Vermeer’s biography. An evocative and fanciful idea to imagine the possible story behind one of his most famous paintings.
My thought found a connection with the girl, whom I was crossing, her pensive look and her earring, which dominated the scene and she reminded me, in a totally irrational way of that novel.