The condompublished: 2010-09-20
There is a condom on the pavement.
I first saw the condom a few weeks ago. It was a bright and beautiful day. Summer. It lay there on the pavement in an upscale area, quite close to Christie’s. Almost next to Christie’s. As the houses there all have front-gardens and bigger pavements, it was hard to tell whether it had been thrown out of some window somewhere. Like evidence that needed discarding of. A rebellious teenager? A plumber? Or an affaire? Perhaps an alcohol-infested quickie against the tree.
It couldn’t have been a teenager, at least not a very young teenager as the condom had collected an impressive load. How many dogs have sniffed this condom, I wondered. How many people have walked by it and looked at it. Did all of them wonder when was the last time they used a condom?
It has disintegrated now. Almost. If you look closely, you can see a little, white rim. Like a fossil imprinted in a slab of brick. Perhaps dogs still sniff it, but people won’t notice it. But I do. I will always see it there.