Look at this little girl in her Converse sneakers and casually draped fur jacket. See her nonchalant expression, her suspicious eyeing of the coins in the busker’s bucket. Look at his concentration face, the synchronized tilt of his pompom, feet and knees. Look at the shit for sale on the footpath, the man tangled up with the dog in the background. The faces and races and fashions that make up Brick Lane on a Sunday.
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