DO NOT CROSS

I’m waiting to cross the road.

As I do, I hear someone say, “You’d think it was bloody China, eh?”, and I look up and see a middle-aged man in tan shorts and long white socks, snappily pressed short-sleeve shirt, he’s looking at me, his fellow caucasian, and he nods in the direction of a single elderly Asian man wearing a traditional style of tunic carrying a couple bags of groceries …

It’s Brisbane on a Saturday morning.

And there’s no racism in Australia.

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