Bargain collectors corner, the owner is standing outside making a chimney of himself before the real trade starts to come through. There’s all manner of goods stacked on the footpath, those big clear plastic stacking boxes, kids hand-held windmills, clothing apparel all bundled out on the footpath. Inside, the shop is stacked from floor to ceiling with all manner of odds and sods from cutlery to CD cleaners, dish racks to electrical cords all available for bargain basement prices.

The sunglasses are tucked away near the front, a revolving wheel of them, or is it an octagon? The labeled price is $19.99, but a peeling hand written stick on label says five dollars. The attendant looks over from the counter- “all fi’ dollar” in broken English. The bustle of Chapel Street floods in as I move the squeaky carousel of coloured glasses around – so many choices – the dark brown, the black, the light brown with silvered frames. Aviators, Britney glasses – all “fi” bucks!  I go for some brown wrap-arounds and they clamp my brain tight- and shadow the windows of my soul sufficiently. I look up to the tiny mirror at the top of the column and decide that for five bucks they’re absolutely fine.  I dive into my jeans pocket for a loose note- apparently this is a ‘boy thing’. to have loose money floating in a pocket – girls just don’t do it.

I wander out and head into N Tran Bakery – maybe some morning tea and a cinnamon doughnut is in order. I sit in the window letting the warmth of the mug dissolve the winter nip in my fingertips and feel the  encrusted cinnamon drop down my chin while the doughy insides are mashed up by fierce molars. There’s a sandpapery feeling as the next one goes in but the sweet cinnamon taste and smell overcome any unpleasantness…..