In the main shopping mall of Goteborg downtown, inside the gallery that isolates from cold, rain, snow and strong winds thousands of people walking up and down, every hour of each day, before the bright shining windows of the shops, there happens to meet this man playing the accordion. He stands upright playing italian old tunes from the early morning hours till the late hours when the mall gallery gets closed to the people. I actually don't know where he's coming from.
Saying he's an Italian is far too easy. Yet, having seen him several times I'm more keen to say he's from somewhere else but decided to make the people believe he's from my land for convenience.
Who ever he is, which ever his past life has been, he stands still and gently salutes everyone passing by. I actually don't have records of Goteborg's people generosity, but I've seen more than once someone stopping by this man, putting a coin in his paper glass and asking for few seconds of a tune before stepping forward on his way to office or home. There's still someone who hasn't surrended to the appeal of modern digital players.