She stopped at the stall on Bourda Street and looked around before quietly asking the price of a slice of pumpkin. The vendor answered quickly before turning to another customer as the woman cautiously sifted through the notes in her purse.
“But you not selling me?” the woman asked a little louder.
“I can’t wait on you whole year. I gat other customers,” the vendor responded sharply, almost too sharply. Maybe she was
