The street feels as if though it oversees the bridge and the water. A young man in suburban attire, clean white tennis shoes and plain jeans walks with hands full, two grocery bags each.
I wonder if we'll get to see the supermarket on the way.
The bus keeps going.
I forget all about the young man, maybe a student, and his dark jacket. A few hundred meters later we get to see a pharmacy with a post office in it. It's closed by now, I think.