Unison
There was haste in all circling around town's centrepiece. The tree crowned the square like a triangular rooftop, its star still pale at early dusk.
I found a seat underneath, cold metal slats a welcome rest, as the world washed by, almost choreographed in a ballet chorus line.
Paper bags of gifts were cherished by shoppers, while smiles and handshakes uttered merry greetings.
I tasted pudding, right there and then. A brief close of the eyes and a blue haze appeared, my children's faces never smiled so much.
And the brush of the crowd against my shoulders and elbows, was the beat of the season, a pulsating message that we all felt the same.
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