he is selling jasmine. 

he is crouched on his knees with his blue, checked veshti pulled up all the way above his boxers. he knits the jasmine together with his dark hands, a lesson in contrasting colours. his fingernails are all pale and white, the colour of bone. 

only the little finger on his right hand has a nail that is an inch long, lacquered in bright pink. 


she is selling roses.

she is calling out incessantly, but the words she is saying are incoherent. a straw basket is balanced precariously on her head while she tucks in her cloth purse full of money into the breast of her blouse. she is wearing three green glass bangles on each hand, any of which might break any moment. 

on her ankles, are bright silver rings, about a centimetre thick and jangling with her feet. 

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