On the way to "la grande place" in Brussel, some sweet sad songs came to my ears, it remembered me some old songs from Les Negresses Vertes. I kept on walking to get closer to the source, but there was not any man playing that, but this little boy.
How this little and smiling boy could make such a deep and sad melody made me thought that maybe he knew more things that I suppose he could know.
I noted the grace of his little hand on the keyboard, he's not a student of music for sure, he's a teacher with discipline.
Some meters ahead there was his father, selling roses and constantly looking at his boy; his eyes also revealed that he was proud of him. Very proud.
Brussel, 2005.