Sun fought December gloom. Victory. Evening. Cotton candy clouded skyline adorns the Buda hills. Inviting.
A bridge. No wind, just chill. Comfort. Steps keep warm. Follow the light. Reddish-pink, baby blue.
Baby blue eye contact. Woman walks toward, then alongside. German? Vielleicht. “Wo gehst du? Willst du mit mir zusammen gehen?” Tempted to ask. Pretty, alone? Can’t tell. Looks focused. Steps align only to part. Crosses the street. Separation.
Trams rumble. Both yellow. One with lights. Christmas lights. Festive, bright, colored yellow and white. Slight daylight between the two. Snap picture. A sight to behold, again. Trams pass. Separation.
Bridge entry nears. A great vein accepting whatever cells choose to flow across.
Danube’s water eases below. Grey sands mark river’s bank. Couples hold hands, talk, tease. Sand under foot along bridge. Tracks their return. Breadcrumbs. No secret.
Won’t hit the sands. Not yet. Warmer weather to come. A few months?
Buda castle looks down, not to condescend. Been there. Will return. Soon, someday soon. Will plan.
Unplanned trip continues on. Look back, not longingly. Shining ferris wheel’s covered carriages rise above riverfront buildings only to sink out of sight. Full circle.
Forward. Where? Bridge ends. Lust for late afternoon kávé.
Spot sign. Luna Cafe. Luna above the Duna. Head toward. Head in. Pretty Hungarian girl takes order. Smiles. At me? At my Magyarul? Smiles.
Sit down to write. Long walk back. Dinner somewhere, wherever. Hotel, sauna, sleep.
Pest lights up across the way. A challenge to the night. Let darkness have its win. Danube drinks down reflection of the indigo sky. Dunkelheit. Bis morgen. Forecast calls for a bright day, move-in day. Morning sun to reclaim celestial supremacy with Earth's turn. Full circle.
Espresso machine hisses. White cup clinks saucer. Tiny silver spoon jingles, key to a pick me up. Familiar rhythm. Old rhythm in an old city, my new city.
