tram
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I’m waiting for the tram, at the junction. Waiting where the streets cross, and the lights change, and the cars stop and go in regular patterns, repeating over and over. Passengers stare and I stare back, like we’re sizing each other up. My tram’s late, so I have to keep waiting. And all the time
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‘What do you think I’m looking for, Steven?’ she said. She turned to face him. ‘Do you think I’ll find it spending my nights at Junk? Don’t worry, I’m just thinking out loud. Unless you have any answers.’ He said nothing. ‘Let’s go and get some air,’ she said, and in a few minutes she
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