Tuesday, June 7, 2011


There was a police car parked right in the middle of the street at the crossing of Luise-Kiesselbach-Platz with the blue lamp on the top of it, blinking.
This is the first time that I have noticed that the police is using BMW. Ahead of the police car, there was a sport Nissan, with its soft roof open and its front bar dropped entirely, in an embarrassing smashed look. There was no car in front of the Nissan. Since it was in the middle of the street, the Nissan was impossible to bump onto somewhere else but the tail of another vehicle. Obviously, it didn't get the other one damaged. At least not a serious noticeable one.
Two policemen were standing around the bus stop on the pavement, talking casually, with a fat lady. The identity was not distinguishable from her appearance. The only thing that could be sure was that she is not a Japanese, or from any of the Asian countries. I guess the Nissan belongs to her. But she looked rather light-hearted. Her short-hair has got some blond high-light at the right side of its lower edge, while the color made an odd contrast to the bulky shape and the rough atmosphere, which was spreading from the image. She was talking with her hip went upward while her knees bending with rhythm.
I felt pity for the Japanese car.
Japanese products are normally having smart fine look and practical quality in the very sense. They could be durable and carrying some historical sense, too, if one could treat them with some fair sentimental care.
Japanese products are only valuable for those who know how to cherish and how to enjoy delicacy. Or, they would be merely vulnerable toys comparing with the European heavy metal.

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