Let there be light...
Yesterday I had some photos developed. Pictures from my trip to Croatia, pictures from my stay in Belgium. Pictures from some of my mates, one of my (very skinny) female friends (She's married: d'oh!...euh, I mean: She's married though)...
Anyway, I forgot my new pictures in an internetcafe in Temple Bar. It took me about two hours to realise it. I was just going to my Spanish class and it dawned on me... I had to go back immediately if I was to have any chance to recuperate these memories. So I jumped on the first bus that said "An Lar", which is the Gaelic for city centre.
And the next stop it happened : hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah,hallelujah, Halle-he-lu-jaah (repeat to fade). There she was, in all her beauty. Descended from the heavens to deliver us from evil. A vision of utter perfection. Mother of all the devine and the earthly. And.. she had a hard time coming up with the correct change. I could hear her muttering something to the driver with a distinct French accent.
She ended up standing next to me and a few stops down the road, she asked me: "Where zo aai get of for Grafton Ztreet?"
"Encore deux arrets, " I replied.
Her face lit up like an Irish meadow at the first ray of sunlight after yet another deluge.
"T'es Français?"
"Non, Belge."
The bus then took a turn I hadn't anticipated, away from An Lar and Grafton Street. We got of at Pearse Station and I swore I could hear Ralph McTell singing: "Let me take you by the hand and lead you through the streets of Dublin..."
I walked her all the way to Trinity, we said our goodbyes and I got a kiss on the cheek for being so gentlemanly.
Didn't catch her name, didn't get her number. It wasn't like that. It was much purer.
The Lord moves in mysterious ways...
Yesterday I had some photos developed. Pictures from my trip to Croatia, pictures from my stay in Belgium. Pictures from some of my mates, one of my (very skinny) female friends (She's married: d'oh!...euh, I mean: She's married though)...
Anyway, I forgot my new pictures in an internetcafe in Temple Bar. It took me about two hours to realise it. I was just going to my Spanish class and it dawned on me... I had to go back immediately if I was to have any chance to recuperate these memories. So I jumped on the first bus that said "An Lar", which is the Gaelic for city centre.
And the next stop it happened : hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah,hallelujah, Halle-he-lu-jaah (repeat to fade). There she was, in all her beauty. Descended from the heavens to deliver us from evil. A vision of utter perfection. Mother of all the devine and the earthly. And.. she had a hard time coming up with the correct change. I could hear her muttering something to the driver with a distinct French accent.
She ended up standing next to me and a few stops down the road, she asked me: "Where zo aai get of for Grafton Ztreet?"
"Encore deux arrets, " I replied.
Her face lit up like an Irish meadow at the first ray of sunlight after yet another deluge.
"T'es Français?"
"Non, Belge."
The bus then took a turn I hadn't anticipated, away from An Lar and Grafton Street. We got of at Pearse Station and I swore I could hear Ralph McTell singing: "Let me take you by the hand and lead you through the streets of Dublin..."
I walked her all the way to Trinity, we said our goodbyes and I got a kiss on the cheek for being so gentlemanly.
Didn't catch her name, didn't get her number. It wasn't like that. It was much purer.
The Lord moves in mysterious ways...
