tales from an ordinary world

2002-11-02

Across the street, a frisky pigeon puffs himself up and chases a potential mate across the edge of the roof of the Big Mouth cafe. They run along to the end of the ledge, whereupon she flies off - perhaps it's not quite Spring, yet.

The citybound tram is full of racegoers, dressed to the nines. None of them seem to catch public transport very often, as they seem utterly confused by the ticket machine (it doesn't matter where you put the instructions, they'll never look anyway).