Thursday September 22, 10:30 am, Observations in Staré Náměstí

His bent legs hold up a backpack. Rocking forward and back, he holds a small phone up to his ear. Yelling, he’s agitated. His hand waves in the air, he walks over to lean on a wall. All of this frustration needs an exit point. Alternative surfaces, he leans, walks, brandishes an invisible sword of fury. But his cries are hardly discernible – he has no teeth. Whoever is on the other end of the phone must deserve this.

Phones being held overhead, as high as arms can reach. Fighting for the best shot, those with the stick reign over those without.

He’s still slightly bent over but now the phone is up to someone else’s ear. A tall man, gray hair atop a quilted jacket with elbow patches. His brief case and sandals stand in discordance, but he lends his capabilities to the strapped man. Strapped on his back the large bag, strapped to himself all of the challenges he’s faced. He does not seem thankful, but eager to share his panic with this man. He follows him through the crowd.

This place is part Disneyland. Buildings yellow, orange, blue. Delicate vines drape down from window sills. Engaged Roman columns with Baroque relief adorn the facades. It’s all neo, though. None of this could be original – history would not allow for it. The proof is, if you want it, a man just asked me to take a picture of him. There’s a Starbuck’s through the pointed arches. “TRADITIONAL CZECH ICE CREAM,” on a sign. “CRAWL WITH ME,” on a sweatshirt. Gothic spires topped by gold stars and orbs tower over all of this, their creators prophesied all of this. Why would anyone expect it to go unnoticed?

It could be the Mona Lisa, or the northern lights, or the President, or the Pope, the way they stand and stare. These people amass themselves into something barely penetrable. They’re standing before a clock, watching, waiting. They want to see the mechanical skeleton in the upper right right the bell on the hour. Which hour? There it goes. 1:00. King Wenceslas tilts his head robotically, looking at all who have come to see time pass, man’s most precious creation.

A wedding party stands to the side, taking pictures in front of a tourist information building. The signs will give it away. Do they realize? A woman fixes a headband on a baby girl’s head. She’s wearing a dress of tulle and a sweater she’ll soon outgrow. She won’t remember any of it. This is Prague.