Four young girls come up with an idea to make a difference. In the middle of the street, armed with bright eyes and wide smiles, they ask the people passing by for their definition of love. One of them is shyer than the rest: she holds the bulletin board from behind, leaving only her eyes visible. They hand me the pen and I scribble a smiley where her hidden mouth is. They laugh, the ice is broken, the quick intimacy of well-meaning strangers is the oasis where we meet.
They want me to write my definition of love on a Post-It and stick it on the board. I shift to Greek: they are young and I know they will appreciate the exoticism of a foreign tongue. I write: "Ή αγάπη είναι το παν" ("Love is all").
They are here to raise awareness on domestic violence. My admiration for them is bittersweet: at their age, I did not even know such a thing even existed. I wish them the best and walk away, a flash of friendship in a sea of strangers on a rainy afternoon.