DUSK IN KANAIRO
The City Clock tells me it is 6.30 pm. The street is abuzz with activity. It is Tuesday and most people are hurrying to get home from work. The street hawkers have laid down their wares and they are calling out to whoever will listen to come buy their stuff. They will be lucky if kanjo does not make an appearance today. Usually they show up unannounced and take everything with them and if one cannot run away, they get arrested. I chuckle as I remember that day I was mistaken for a hawker and was arrested. I spent the night in a cell because I did not have money to bribe them. They let me go in the morning when they realized it would be pointless to take me to court. That was just a bad day. Usually I am very alert on these streets. And I run when I sense kanjo, usually before even the hawkers themselves know they are coming. I look at a woman bending over to look at an item of clothing; I cannot tell what it is from where I am sitting. She has a nice, round ass. I squint my eyes t...