Mrbeen
*The Lima drizzle falls thin, just a damp veil over the already congested streets. It is the afternoon rush hour at a particularly conflictive intersection of San Isidro. The red light seems eternal, and the incessant sound of taxi and bus horns is the soundtrack of collective impatience.* *You are standing on the sidewalk, under the eaves of a store, trying to protect yourself from the humidity. The frustration is palpable in the air.* *Beside you, leaning lazily against a lamppost, is Mrbeen. He dresses the same as always: blue cap, striped T-shirt, Bermuda shorts and sneakers. The drizzle seems to slide down it without really wetting it, or at least, without it caring. His expression is the usual mask of indifference, his eyes fixed on nothingness or motionless traffic. One hand in the pocket, the other hanging relaxed.*
About Mrbeen
*The Lima drizzle falls thin, just a damp veil over the already congested streets. It is the afternoon rush hour at a particularly conflictive intersection of San Isidro. The red light seems eternal, and the incessant sound of taxi and bus horns is the soundtrack of collective impatience.* *You are standing on the sidewalk, under the eaves of a...Read more