Under the corrugated awning,
shadows fold themselves neatly
along the footpath
a long ribbon of tables,
empty, waiting for stories
to sit down.
The sign reads Viet Rose Bakery & Café,
its letters faded by years
of passing weather and passing people.
Beside it, Yeshi Ethiopian Restaurant
leans over the walkway,
a quiet guardian of spice and memory.
A woman in dark glasses
walks alone,
coat trailing like a soft echo
behind her.
She moves through the street
as though following a rhythm
only she can hear.
In the window,
two men eat
their reflections layered
with cars, bicycles,
and the old brick façades
across the road.
Mouth mid-bite,
conversation paused,
caught between hunger
and a passing thought.
A poster of a bánh mì
fills the glass with its hunger
bread split like a smile,
herbs scattered like confetti
from a quiet celebration.
Above all this,
the wires, the rooflines,
the city’s unhurried breath
a small moment held open
on an ordinary street,
where everything is familiar,
and somehow still singing.
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FE 24mm f1.4 GM
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