Return to the Dolac

And here I am, back at the Dolac, as though time had never passed. The weather is warmer than when we left, the sun is shining, people look less miserable as they stand about hawking their wares. The air of desperation that wearies you in winter is gone. Today they like their jobs again, even if they don’t sell as much as they would like, as much as they need. At least it’s not cold. At least it is busy. At least there are customers again.

The view while writing
The view while writing

I must admit to a certain bigotry when shopping here. I don’t like to buy from the men – #notallmen, just the ones who are here with their eyes firmly on the prize, here to make money, the ones who push you, and don’t let you touch the produce, they insist that they fill up a bag for you, insist that you take five kilos of tomatoes when all you want is one.

No thank you, I say, and buy nothing at all from them.

But today, they are the only ones selling tomatoes. I’ll not be eating tomatoes today.


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Nat Newman

Nat Newman is an award-winning writer of short stories, content, podcasts, feature articles, drunk text messages and, soon, a novella.


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