Wishes, Horses.

“Excuse, lady?”

“Yes?” Blue parka. Headscarf. Ankle-grazing skirt. A flash of sunlight in an outstretched palm.

“You want to buy some gold? I give you cheap.”

“No thank you, I don’t really wear gold.”

“Excuse me lady, one pound…”

“No, thank you.” Green light.

“You give me one pound…”

Wheels rolling. A swell of abdomen. An obstacle.

“You. Give. One. Pound. For. Baby. My baby.”

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