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Kensington
Market 2020
"Why's
it called market, anyways?" Oliver asked Colin as they
walked through the neighbourhood. It was sunny and the
pure white pavement glowed.
"Well,"
the older boy said, thinking it over. "Probably for
the marketers." Then with the surety of a 11-year-old
to a 10-year-old, "Yeah, the marketers and the ad execs.
They moved here, like, fifty years ago and made it nice."
In
front of them, a new model floater slid out of the parking
garage. "What was it like before?"
Colin
grimaced. "My dad said that it was really gross. Like
it smelled. Of fish he said. 'Cause they sold
food out in the streets." They passed by a Gap-Benneton,
and Colin stopped talking to admire the clothes. There
was a well dressed silver mannequin having sex with
another well dressed silver mannequin. Oliver found
looking at it made his mouth dry.
"I
want that," Colin said, and they moved on down Augusta
Street. "There weren't any good stores, either. Dad
says he would never come here because there were all
these scummy people living here. But they all had to
leave after a while because they couldn't afford it."
Colin laughed.
They
were coming to the edge of the neighbourhood. They waved
to the guard at the Augusta - Dundas checkpoint, who
nodded to them. His dogdroid was scanning people who
walked by outside the gates. Oliver saw a boy about
his age and wondered if he had good stores near his
house.
Colin
said, "Wanna go virtuablading?"
"Yeah!"
Oliver said, looking away from the gate. "I've just
got a new scenario -- Death in the 'Hood."
"Oh
yeah, have you got your tickets for the Marlboro Virtuablade
Shredfest yet?" Colin said as they headed back to Nassau
Street.
"No,
I've only got eight proofs-of-purchase," Oliver said
sheepishly. "Marlboros are strong."
Colin
looked at him severly. "Better smoke up, man."
#
This
originally was a Science Friction Action Heroes poster,
put up around Kensington Market.
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