Before the Garbage Truck Arrived
He'd walked down these narrow streets before, always as the darkness was slipping away, retreating to some place a little more to the west. It never really vanished, just edged over like a dense cloud, making space for the first sun beams.
Daylight coming in and darkness leaving makes magic at their intersection. This morning in Paris would prove special. He'd been on this sidewalk many times, passed the large green trash bins so often. Most days the trash was rubbish. Still, he always looked as he passed, just in case. After all, he'd found wonderful toy fire engines, heavy duty clothes hangers, wooden canes, stacks of art books, lamps and mismatched shades. He'd even found a Noguchi Akari lamp, not in pristine condition, but close enough. The inhabitants of Paris discard the strangest things. He at times wondered if these people understood exactly what they had jettisoned?
On those rare occasions when he spied a treasure, he'd lift the lid of the bin to illuminate the found object, take a few photographs in the flat early morning light. Then, he’d quietly close the lid and continue his stroll. He didn't drag everything home, although his next door neighbor certainly thought so.
He took this bush home only in his camera.
It was gone when he passed again ten minutes later.
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