Thursday, December 2, 2010

Majorca Flats -- 19

The tram swayed and rattled its way towards the down-town office area. Along the way it passed through streets lined with Edwardian houses, pavement cafés, pubs, bars, restaurants, clothes shops, book shops both new and second-hand. There was an Indian grocery with posters for Bollywood films in the window, an Italian bookshop called Scopo, a Greek video shop, the head offices of Kosmos, Melbourne's Greek Newspaper, a Lebanese pastry shop, a ladies' hairdresser called Euphrates . . . . every culture of the world seemed represented.

In some ways it looked oddly English. In others, the city reminded him more of some southern European city, warm and friendly, with its tree-lined streets and trams and pavement cafés. He heard Greek and Italian on the tram, as well as several Asian languages he didn't recognise. It was wonderfully exotic and interesting. People would stay on the tram for a few stops then get off, and new ones would take their place. Several men gave him that look which he'd come to know, but he avoided their attention. In a way though, he was pleased to see that he was still good-looking enough to draw some interest, even if he wasn't ready to take it any further.

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