What is left of a poster which has been stripped off a wall looks better than the original.
In the Farmer's Market, a woman, beside her wool stall, spins unwashed wool, rich in lanolin. She works the pedals of the wheel with her feet and draws out the spun wool with her hands, which are clothed in mittens against the morning cold. You see a lot of spinning wheels in antique shops and the like round here, but rarely see them in use.
The street cleaning vehicle growls along the road, its brushes whirring in the gutters. It is like a tank. In front of it, advances the infantry, a uniformed woman wielding a large broom.