I exist in my 1.5m by 2.5m space, watching as two rivers of people go by. They move like rolling currents, swirling around each other, sometimes branching off into the little shallow embankments called stores. There is a sound, a low murmer that doesn't sound like any given thing until you learn to separate the voices, the words. There is Russian, it's hard sylables sounding cold as their homeland. There is Japanese, familiar and melodus. There is Spanish, words spoken like a dance. And there is English.
At times, the currents of people find themselves drawn towards me to either look at my wares or ask a question. Their qurries do not bother me much, only their stares. "Where is XX," they ask, using various tones. Anger, disbelief, honest confusion... and sometime kindness.
But in the long hours I spend, standing at looking out at the man-made river, I am given time to reflect. Today I prefer to contemplate human nature and I think it will be a well suited topic thought indeed.