At a plaza near the Palais Royale in Brussels. After a long walk I grab a sandwich and a drink and sit down on a bench to eat lunch. The sun is out for the first time in days, and when some people vacate a bench on the other side of the plaza I switch places to position myself in the warm sunlight. After a few minutes a young woman passes by where I’m sitting, walking with her eyes almost closed as if in a kind of private reverie. She pauses, turns, and approaches where I’m sitting. She nods at the empty spot on the bench and asks, “Es que ça vous dérangerait…” I respond, “Non, pas de tout.” She sits down next to me, and for the next ten minutes or so we sit there next to each other, soaking in the sun. Several times I think that maybe I should speak to her – but why? Out of politeness, perhaps, or because she seems friendly, or maybe out of some more basic need to communicate with another human being after a long morning of solitary strolling. In any case, I don’t find the right words, and fear that I might be disturbing her peace. So we remain silent strangers occupying the same sun-drenched bench on the plaza. Finally she gets up, turns and says ‘Au revoir.” I return the farewell and she walks away. I continue sitting for five more minutes or so, then get up and head off in the opposite direction.