ČB torek / B&W Tuesday

V nedeljo sem obiskala urgenco. Med čakanjem na izvide sem opazovala ljudi. Mladi so mrzlično sporočali svetu o svojem položaju, trenutnem stanju duha in telesa, tipkali so na telefone in se komaj imeli priložnost pogovarjati med seboj, s svojimi spremljevalci, kajti vsakdo je imel nekoga zraven. Ob pogledu nanje sem postala nemirna, zato sem se obrnila proti starejšim. Kljub bolečini so bili mirni. Najbolj pa so me pritegnile njihove zgodbe. Saj niso bile izgovorjene, bile so okoli njih. Vele so iz njihovih gub, izpod rut in izza suknjičev. Resnične zgodbe njihovega življenja. Tudi starost je lepa.

I visited Emergency Room on Sunday. While waited on the test results I was observing people around me. Young were busy busy telling the world about their position and state. They were typing on their mobile phones and had no time to talk with their companion. I became uneasy so I turn away. To the elderly people. They were calm. Bust most of all. They were so ful of stories. I could feel them in their grey hair, wrinkles, under their kerchief and in their pockets. A true stories of their life. Oldness is also beautiful.