18 September 2008. Gulls whirl above 7-eleven roofline, gray skies. Larry's brown truck lurched in at an angle, moored in fact. Welted silver tool box propped in place, mute red tail lights waiting...
Morning's return. Forget the banks--insurance bets to the tune of three trillion--or so Javed, with his bags of almost stale bread--the gleanings, in reverse--a source of wealth, scattered over asphalt, as they wheel in, wings spread wide, from Richmond, Hercules, Pinole...
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