On Repeat

OnRepeat

 

I would stand in a different window each day, for ten minutes at 9:15, and watch the London streets. My posture was always the same. After three weeks and two days, I noticed a man notice me. He would stand, in exactly the same position on the street below. His posture was always the same. We were both just waiting, and for those ten minutes, the world came to a stand still. When I moved from my vista, I would glance back, and he would have his head down jotting in a notepad before striding off. I wondered if he was trying to guess which window I would appear in next, trying to assess the pattern. Maybe he would make a piece of music based on my ritual, or maybe he was mapping my movements for a painting. Maybe he was just window spotting. I wonder what will happen when I take annual leave.

Office block near St Pancras in London, windows on repeat.

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