Come Rain or Shine

‘In the fall of 2007, I saw him for the first time. From the corner of my eye I watched a man walking over the cobbled stones of the Fish Market. With appropriate astonishment I observed his curious appearance. The man was wearing shorts well above the knee combined with blue, yellow-dotted rain boots. A few strains of hair covered his head and his pinched eyes gazed through outdated glasses. I named him Harold, Harold High Boots.
In the days that followed I saw Harold popping up everywhere, sitting on a bench in front of the Martini Church or passing by café Belcampo where I would study. Harold loved the streets of Groningen and I idolized his quirkiness. He taught me to relativize the doom and gloom of everyday life. In the summer of 2012 I decided to move to Amsterdam. Somewhat melancholy I said goodbye to Harold and we parted our ways.

Last week, I had coffee on the Prinsengracht looking through the window with dreamy eyes. In the distance I saw yellow dots moving. It was Harold, with shorts and boots. He walked into an alley and disappeared between the sex- and coffee shops.’