people of royal blood

I spent my Sunday night in the company of two queens. They weren’t in the beginning, they were just two girls I met and ended up drinking beer with in Gràcia, together with some other people. They transformed during our conversations though. One of them being proud of her royal looks we all started to call “Queen” and we tried to find her a fitting crown. A crown that didn’t look like a crown. Somebody had a cap with piano keys and music notes printed on it. We crowned her just after the clocks announced the middle of the night. She had her official picture takes by a cell phone. It might be somewhere on the internet right now.  She looks a bit like a younger sister of “my own” queen. Long blond hair. Smiling always. The other girl was more secretive about her royal blood, blood that wasn’t blue but had glitter in it and changed colour, she told us. She didn’t want a crown, or maybe she secretly did. It was quite clear she was in disguise. She wore an oldfashioned beige trendcoat, the inspector Clouseau kind of coat. 

When they left I wandered along with a man on an autoped and another man leaving a trace by embellishing the faces of people walking by with yellow facepaint. Some people had colour on their bodies already. Earlier today Barcelona celebrated the Hindu festival of colours, Holi.

When it was time to go home I walked through the Barcelona streets. The new people I had met walked along in my mind. Not far from my place I found a crown on the sidewalk. A golden one with diamonds and a logo I hate.