OH, TO BE FREE
It starts already in the morning on the tram, on the train or on the bus: inconsiderate and discourteous people, hounded people, irritable people, jammed entrances and exits, overcrowding, standing-room only.
Motorists and cyclists have similar experiences on the way to work: inconsiderate and unfocused drivers, pedestrians rushing across the street with their eyes glued to their smartphones, oblivious of their surroundings or scurrying around in haste like headless chickens, diversions, detours and congested roads with one red light after another in a seemingly endless procession.
Such are the preludes to the working day in an urban metropolis. However, in spite of this, you do get through to the office in one piece and now your work begins.
As you survey the masses of work waiting for you, you pick up a few snippets of conversation from your colleagues: ‘My landlady's daughter attempted suicide.’ – ‘A father mistreated his one-year-old child so badly that the toddler died.’ – ‘A woman was murdered.’ – ‘How terrible!’ From another side comes the question: ‘What do you think about yesterday's football match?’ A colleague is leafing through a fashion journal. You hear her exclaim: ‘A pigeon blue leather coat, oh, that would be nice!’ Another would like an outfit made of fine green silk. One crisscrosses the other. There are recounted experiences of the previous evening: improbable successes
