Remember When In the autumn, the leaves fall in Bucharest as fast as high-schoolers running to catch a trolley. You see them, then they’re gone. The parks are littered with them, and then they mysteriously disappear overnight. We have no educational system, but our sanitation is always on time. The ivy on the old walls of the Lyceums and embassies withers; the tips of the weeping willows at Cismigiu Park yellow, and the water in the lake becomes cold. The geese disappear. The smell of roasting apples sometimes comes from other apartments for a few weeks, then disappears. The dark clouds of November roll in and the streets become mean and desolate. Some of the elementary school kids hang out by the bus stops, trying their first cigarettes, while others rush to the commuter bus with their heads down. The bus stops at four villages before turning around. The ride lasts more than an hour. It is cold, and everyone sits with their heads hunched inside their parkas and scarves. The girls whisper to one another. Remember when? Remember when?
Posted on: Thu, 16 Jan 2014 21:40:09 +0000
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