Chestnuts have always been the perfect solution to the cold of autumn and winter, and consequently chestnuts salesman-woman. When the days are cut off and the cold begins to shine, there is something that takes root in the chestnuts and in the chestnut stalls themselves. Is it the taste of chestnuts? The sweetness, the warmth, the texture, the different flavours of the food. The smell, maybe? It smells hot, so it seems to warm up the area. Gathering and feeding around the drum has something magical. The sound of the drum is unpleasant and attractive, and the fire of burning chestnuts seems to be calling us. How can we avoid approaching the embers under the drum in search of warmth? The context seems to induce us to listen to our senses. How can we avoid approaching the chestnut salesman’s post once a year?
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