The old postoffice.
A cyclist, two pedestrians and a couple of cars.
At approximatily 6:35 PM on an unusual Monday in April, 2020.
The big building is the old, main postoffice in the city.
On my first job for a government entity, I used to pay may bills here.
Manually, so to speak, over the counter.
The steakhouse on the corner was then called "Markurell's" and had a bar in the cellar where we used to spend what was left after having paid the bills.
We didn't really care about tomorrow.
Good times it was.
As I walked by it today, I counted to just six guests. They're still open, which surprised me.
Bad times it is.
The old postoffice.
A cyclist, two pedestrians and a couple of cars.
At approximatily 6:35 PM on an unusual Monday in April, 2020.
The big building is the old, main postoffice in the city.
On my first job for a government entity, I used to pay may bills here.
Manually, so to speak, over the counter.
The steakhouse on the corner was then called "Markurell's" and had a bar in the cellar where we used to spend what was left after having paid the bills.
We didn't really care about tomorrow.
Good times it was.
As I walked by it today, I counted to just six guests. They're still open, which surprised me.
Bad times it is.