Thursday 15 April 2004
Christian Boltanski walks along the street, waiting and watching for the streetcar, which has failed to arrive. Caught in the backward glances every couple of minutes, he fails to notice Leanna, who walks out of the corner store, having just purchased bubble gum and a bottle of water. He walks into her, and after the shuffling has completed itself, they both engage in apologies. Then he asks, ‘Don’t I know you from somewhere?’ and she replies, ‘I don’t think so.’ He squints and turns and walks away. The streetcar has still not come. The buildings frame a scene consisting almost solely of headlights.

Some guy walked into me today, she says, when she tells him about it later. He in turn tells her of the time a woman in an electric wheelchair ran over his foot. ‘I was waiting for the streetcar, ‘ he says, ‘and it was cold, I had my hood up, so I had no peripheral vision and I was reading the newspapers in the boxes, when suddenly I feel this pressure on my foot. The woman mumbles ‘shume’ and I look down to see that my right foot is pinned under her wheel. I can’t budge. I say, ‘Can you back up, my foot is stuck’. She complies. She takes off, and I’m left with a sore foot. I figured I’d at least have a bruise but I didn’t.

‘You’re lucky you didn’t lose any toes,’ she says.