As I was waiting for my sister at the tram station, nearby the Galleries Lafayette, listening to some Supertramp music, my mind was wandering, and I watched the people around me. Such as ants, well organized and respectful, they were walking along the shops. Only some disruptive ones were spoiling the flux of what seemed to be a river made of coats and heads. My eyes followed their movements until reaching a group of elder people. There, speaking, without hearing a single word, I saw two old ladies wearing a poor mink around their long pale giraffe neck. Though I couldn’t hear them I could perfectly see how agitated they were, criticizing every single young person they saw, probably arguing about their style which they thought wasn’t appropriate. It’s only after a few moments that I just realized that they were sitting right next to something, some grey statue with a tartan cap: A man, probably one of the two women’s husband, was sleeping despite the two ostriches clucking and chirping sitting next to him. As they were giggling, this time about a young girl of my age, I saw them stop brutally when she started to furiously tell them off. Flying frenetically, the pigeons woke up the stone man who seemed very angry at first but then stopped seeing the young lady grappling with the old turkeys. Eventually the conversation came to an end and the girl turned back to me. I saw the face of my sister appearing. As she came to me, I saw her giving a faint smile, proud to give the old ladies a tongue-lashing…
