Viet woman on Barkly Street corner at the lights bending to pick up a stray leaf. Strange. Native people did not…stoop to romanticism of that kind. One of the plane trees had deposited from around the corner in French Street, the wind blowing over. There were two or three other leaves on that patch of bitumen. Had the woman chosen the finest, the shapeliest specimen? There had seemed to be a moment of deliberation. Peering around at the face she was not a young lass either…. Ah, no. Corona. For the crossing.
Footscray, Melbourne
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