Lowering my pack onto the table, I turned indicating to Alex that I would have my usual iced-coffee. I made myself comfortable, as much as one is able in an iron chair, and let my gaze slowly swing around the city square. Although it was only early afternoon, the sun was already slipping behind tall buildings and the shadows in the square lengthening.
The green-grocer had a steady stream of customers, just enough to keep him busy, yet not enough for them to become impatient. From afar it appeared that some were regulars, as he greeted them with warm body language and a few words. To my surprise, purchases were discussed, apples were picked up and rubbed, grapes were sampled. Boxes from behind the tarp were brought to the fore.
As I slurped the last of the ice-cream, and waved to Alex, I wondered if the grocer ever became lonely.