A long day for me today, framed by two glimpses of human encounters down bluestone laneways.
On my way into work a bit before 9, I looked down a bluestone laneway off Neill St, and saw a young woman in a floral skirt about to set off on a bike. A young man with a beard, wearing t-shirt and pyjamas, in bare feet, had come out the back entrance to kiss her goodbye.
This evening, coming home, after a work dinner in Carlton, after 10, I looked down a laneway off Drummond St behind the pub and saw a young man with a beard, sitting slumped against the wall, with a young woman leaning over solicitously with a bottle of water.
If bluestone laneways frame the city and suburbs, they are also places for marginal, semi-private encounters. The lives of men and women in the city.
On my way into work a bit before 9, I looked down a bluestone laneway off Neill St, and saw a young woman in a floral skirt about to set off on a bike. A young man with a beard, wearing t-shirt and pyjamas, in bare feet, had come out the back entrance to kiss her goodbye.
This evening, coming home, after a work dinner in Carlton, after 10, I looked down a laneway off Drummond St behind the pub and saw a young man with a beard, sitting slumped against the wall, with a young woman leaning over solicitously with a bottle of water.
If bluestone laneways frame the city and suburbs, they are also places for marginal, semi-private encounters. The lives of men and women in the city.
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