Ramadan
by Erik Visser ︎︎︎Ramadan has not yet started, but a woman on crutches is already complaining. I agree with her, in fact I immediately confirm her. I offer her a place at my table. I set my Tallboy aside, her crutches leaning along the edge of the table. She says that she has a high degree of spontaneous availability. That could mean that she is her own boss or that she is unemployed and has a calendar without color blocks.
Anyway, time is like wax in her hands. But now there’s been a spanner in the works. Ramadan starts this weekend. The Moroccan bakery where she has breakfast almost every morning will have to remove all tables for a month. She is outraged. Under her breath she curses the one faith. She thinks of the Medieval crusaders and Geert Wilders. But here I have to give up. We quietly enjoy our Moroccan breakfast, our last time together.