A clacking behind me; I turn around. A young woman with a black backpack rolls towards me on a blue Razor scooter, her moss-green high-heeled boots pushing her along the cobbled path and through the cold sun of the first day of spring. I follow her with my eyes as she coasts around the large, round fountain, spray misting the lenses of her opaque, blue goggles. Where she’s going too I don’t know and I don’t want to know. It’s enough just to see her go.
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Robin Jeffrey 