December gazes at the dove-grey deco front of Myers. Faces
search for their next purchase, weighed down already with purchases. To avoid
cliché of Christmas windows, eyesight seeks a calm place to rest. The beautiful
curves of Moreton Bay figs mean little to the queues lining up for snow and
jingle bells. Their branches describe ancient fractals, their leaves remember
heavy rains, rains before the tree was born.
Higher still, attention is drawn to the slight breeze that, on this hot
day, moves the flags ever so on top of Myers. Frayed and faded they haven’t
been changed in years.
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