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This is a picture I did not take of an orange persimmon, loose from an asian grocery stand in the middle of Chinatown, rolling down a freshly paved section of Pacific early on a Saturday morning as if it had a new idea about how it wanted to spend its day, bright orange rolling on black, right between two dashes of the new yellow lane dividers, rolling beneath (and between) the two wheels of my red scooter, to the delight and amazement of three women waiting for the bus with their groceries as I slowly rolled uphill.
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