Old man, a little bent, walking calm and slow on old, bow legs. He holds a three meter long rope in his hand, an old, brown rope, withering with age but still strong. To the end of this boring rope is attached a cow, sleepy and seemingly more bored and than his old owner. They walk along, at either end of their old rope, yet lost in their sleepy worlds unfortunately linked by fate.
They trudge along, unhurried and quite happy with their pace, glancing at each other like one does at uninteresting neighbours. They amble across a road – the busiest, most frenzied of roads in the middle of the city, bustling, buzzing, vibrating, ready to burst at its seams – and for a few minutes, the rope stretches straight across the path of a thousand people traveling on the most frenzied, bustling, buzzing, vibrating road in the city. And stops them all. From changing the world, from running in to their codes, their solutions, their meetings, their problems, their coffees, their mails...because the man can't walk faster and the cow won't.
Silence.
And everyone waits...