Sunday, October 08, 2006


There is a barbershop around the corner from our house. It's run by a group of pleasant South Indian guys. We don’t speak much but whenever I go there I'm greeted with a friendly smile. The barbers live close to us and I see them around, riding to work on their bicycles. Sometimes we wave to each other. A few years ago I saw one of them eating an apple as he rode with one hand. It was just after sunset and on the empty road we seemed like the only two people in the world. A boy watching a man on a bicycle eating an apple in the dusk.


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