The elderly at the market are at a remove from the immediacy of the crisis. They gossip and chat and mutter amongst themselves the same as always; one might think they were oblivious to what is going on all around us.
Workmen stand or slouch uncomfortably idle. If they were working, they would pray for such a break. Now it is all they can do, and they can do nothing but wait for the work that will not come.
A Rolls Royce glides by, the driver on the phone putting on a show typical of those who like to presume themselves aristocratic. Normally he would be stuck in a long line of traffic, yet today he makes it seem as though he had the traffic cleared for his convenience.
I surf the news channels, taking account of who reports on the troubles, or how; and mull its significance.
There are a number of unimportant news items that I suspect would not have been aired filling the broadcasts; they only serve to draw attention to what is not being said.