May 20, 2016
The trolley zip gets stuck as an act of rebellion. It simply does not want to move back or forward despite the efforts of Philip Wade’s hand. He thinks at the European inability to find a new direction for its project. With these thoughts, he gives up. He brings his hand to the shirt collar and breathes in. He feels uncomfortable; he does not usually wear ties. He has never worn ties, not even when he was at the big bank; he used to prefer crew-neck sweaters which looked like a provocation to the dress-code of the financial community he had joined up in London City. He breathes in once again, turning his back to memories. Time is a balm.