A feeling of Kings st.
I squeeze my eyes together and take a sip of my soya latté. A woman dressed in black places herself at the table next to me and playes around with the black mobilphone inbetween her black glove covered hands. She looks at me through her big black sunglasses. Another woman with a big blue IKEA bag is eating a chicken wrap. Under the shop sign "Pret a manger" around on the metalic and brown plastic chairs are sitting 12 women and 1 man. I am not eating. I am drinking coffee in the sun - a clear sign that the spring is about to do its entrance in England. PRET - creates hand made, natural food, avoiding the obscure chemicals, additives and preservatives. Two russian elderly women are laughing out laud and start to sing a line from a russian song, a man is passing me carrying his baby, a girl is screaming, a boy step on his motorbike, there are lying 7 cigarette ends next to my shoe. Even if we are sitting at a cafe in London nobody is talking english. Lloyds TSB - that's english. Mark & Spencer - that's english. In Kings st. the british chain stores are lying side by side with the thai, Indian, Italian and Lebanese restaurants. It's sunday - people are passing them a bit slower than normal, drinking their coffee a bit slower than normal. I am drinking my coffee very slow. The black dressed woman from before is sharing a cigarette with another black dressed woman. A pigeon is jumping over a McDonalds paperbag. My Israeli friend have recommended a restaurant further down the street. A nice meal for £6. It's the place where a man is baking pita bread in the window. The name of the restaurant is written in big yellow letters on a red background. It should be worth a try. A woman wearing a red scarf and matching hat are placing herself and her latté next to me while she keep on talking out loudly in italian in her mobile phone. Two fresh english boys are moving a table from the shadow to the sun. There is a place for everybody in the sun on a sunday in Kings st.