PARALLEL LIVES
The other day my friend and I were on our weekly walk in the botanical garden, at 8.30 am enjoying the deserted space and the enthusiastic bird song. Several toucans were screeching above us, way too high to spot their bright yellow chests and black beaks. Mid-walk we passed in front of the playground area, until recently cordoned off by yellow and black tape. The tape had gone. In its place a brand-new set of rules posted on a placard indicated the playground had re-opened. To our surprise, a pretty café had opened as well. We used to stop at the previous one, which had closed at the end of the year, for an expresso and a shared bottle of water, and to chat with the resident cat, Penelope. Now we stood there transfixed, not sure what to do. We desired the coffee and the return to our routine, but at that moment, taken by surprise, the process was too overwhelming. Would the cups be sanitized? How would we pay? Would it be safe to share a bottle of water? Everything fel...