A Juggler in Bruxelles

Bruxelles, late afternoon of a spring day.

The Gare du Midi is just a few hundred metres away. The traffic flows dully, green is a go, red is a stop. Cars halt at pedestrian crossings when someone approaches. Nobody tries to go through the junction stealing the few fractions of a second between the lights.

The only moment of life —or chaos to some— in this ordinary end of an ordinary day equal to countless others in the past and future, is a street performer: a juggler trying to earn a few euros by showing off his prowness at bouncing a soccer ball.

Sometimes he indulges too long on his tricks, the lights turn green, the cars start mercilessly, and he must be quick to get to a safe spot, until the next stop.