Cornershop 4
It’s lunchtime, and the sun bathes the street in warm noon light. Stepping into the cornershop for odds and ends, I exit to witness a disheveled middle-aged man surrounded by four white youths in baseball caps and black attire. A pungent scent wafts on the gentle breeze — an unpleasant odor permeates the air.
One youth, face contorted in disgust, scoffs at the unmistakable stench. “Can’t you smell your batty, bruv?” Tension thickens. I pause, observing the unfolding drama. Young ladies from Pretty Little Thing, pink parcels in hand, continue on their way to the nearby post office, absorbed in their own worlds, oblivious to the spectacle.
The second youth shakes his head, holds his nose, and sneers, “How old are you, bruv? You’re long in the tooth. Go and wash your arse, mate.” Smiles are hard to come by. The third youth jeers, “You gonna buy beer? Soap is cheap. We’re young. What the hell, man?”
As I pass the fourth youth, his detached gaze meets mine. Navigating the scene, I absorb the smelly butt moment, insults lingering in the air. The middle-aged man remains unmoved. I bemusedly walk the short distance home from the cornershop.
Prelude by Skendong: The Cornershop: Surprising Interactions And Tensions