I dart into traffic. A benefit of being in this quarter. So many drug addicts. Most of them men my age riding bikes same as me. They’re prone to erratic behaviour. Drivers are aware. I take advantage. I swerve and yell at the top of my lungs. The day is over. I’m alive.
Lovers in swan shaped boats paddle along the canal. The late afternoon sun shimmers on the surface. Hordes of people wander the banks in various states of undress. They walk dogs and hold hands and hurriedly eat ice cream before it drips down the cone. Simple pleasures cure the lives we lead.
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