Glancing Books In A Brussels’Night

A casual walk in a Brussels’early evening, wandering through the old streets near the city centre. The light from a comic-book shop window cut into the dark pavement like a beacon. Inside, Tintin, Snowy, and the bright spines of Hergé’s world stood stacked and waiting — nostalgia perfectly lit for passers-by. Then a man stopped with his bicycle, leaning slightly toward the glass.

He didn’t enter; he only looked — half-curious, half-distracted. The glow of the display made him a silhouette, almost part of the window’s composition. His reflection blended with the books, erasing the boundary between observer and story.

For a moment, the scene assembled itself.