The park was small and on the
edge of the city block. Further down the hill, the river could be glimpsed,
blue and sparkling in the morning sunshine. Three yachts, their white sails
gleaming, followed each other like sentries on guard.
Yesterday, the girl had sat on
the same bench in the park, watching the last minute rush of Christmas
shoppers. They all seemed to have a destination to go to and carried their
brightly coloured Christmas bags with a jaunty air.
Now, the city was almost
deserted except for the boy stretched out seemingly asleep on a bench a few
metres away. He was a tall rangy boy, too thin for his height. Fifteen minutes
earlier, he'd been eating a pie. The girl had felt a twinge of hunger watching
him. She wasn't a pie eater but she was hungry enough to eat anything.
As if conscious of her watching
him, the boy sat up. "Hi," he called across the small area of grass
between them. "What's new?"
"Nothing much." She
didn't feel like talking to him. She didn't feel like talking to anyone.
Download, The Japanese Grandmother, my anthology of my short stories & poetry, from www.apple-ebooks.com
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